To Reach You
Depressed. Oppressed. Suppressed.
Stop pressing me stressing me
there are no juices left in me.
Appetites for the material
have left nothing
to materialize with…
Let us rub two rolling stones
over nothing
and see what there is
to ignite
lessons in the futility
of making do right
Long ago not far away
just a snap or two
Three… four
saw you shut the door
Seven… eight
changed mind not fate
a monster hesitates
too late
broken
terminally unspoken
stuck in a place behind
the back side of able
Unable
two beats late
to swallow
Too afraid of dying
in a sea of disbelief
to wallow
as in then
here in now
I will never be
the domino
in pocket
leading you to
what simpering need
feeds
I am a loaded gun
you can not fire
neither straight nor true
nor free of debris
there will
be no series of
lives in ruin
or mercy for
the repulsive
side of view
I am a prisoner from
the land of tied tongues
in a world of move on
holding you over the edge
where I cast down
my shadow long gone
silently knowing
watching you watch me
both of us stretching
tightly as you twist slightly
dangle painfully threads thin
from the starvation
of waiting for
the winds of your Karma
to reach you
Brightfire Woman © 2009
