Shaking...
like the young tree planted in the early spring
leaves look so attached.
Vulnerable...
wisps of wild wind wrapped around the branches
body bends, almost touching the ground.
Fighting...
roots beginning to grab within the ground
new, wet dirt hugging its bottom.
Wondering...
will the winter win soon?
~The Window~
The smooth cold glass pressed hard against my cheek
my eyes searching for a glance
searching for eyes to meet mine
I run my hands up the square prison
" Listen to me..hear me..."
I yell louder and louder
the echos ring in my head
my throat going dry
my knuckles scarred from the pounding
" Can anyone hear me?"
"God please..someone hear me"
I watch as as blank bodies rush by me
Empty eyes with fixed stares ahead of their walks
I clench my fists and fall to the ground..
my back up against the the window that noone sees.
All I ever wanted was to be heard
and all I do is scream and noone hears me.
Noone sees me.
I wake up..in my warm bed..struggling to find a calm breath.
Realizing the dream is a dream.
As I look down I still see the blood on my knuckles and I exhale.
another day.....
~Nothing~
In a barren brown field,
dust dancing about my face
sweat slides
tears glide
i hug my chest
aching in my gut travels up my throat
squinted eyes, burning rust
reaching up with my sign...
my scratched soiled fingers, the words
curling up cold
shivering slightly
closed clenched eyes sleep
the night a blackened road to never
