The Bare Bones
I know how
I cover my face
and scoff
too much emotion
makes me want to run off
tilting myself at reality,
and garnering myself
an academy award
if it isn't life on my terms--
flail about with octopus arms
lose the charm
blossom
rarely these days do you find
a smile
on my face
an alien to my nature
perhaps the entire human race
its easier to manage
through derision
living life by indecision
afflicting myself with frenzy
chicken little sky falling down
like menses
my atmosphere
chilly and raw
like winter rain
this
won't do
and yet I
continue to
hide behind
false fronts like religion
I'm not interested
in being interesting
too self-involved
un-evolved
and ready for the tree
as my cross...
this is my new therapy now.
Copyright February 2014
All Rights Reserved By This Author
Meloo/melissa a howells
Tilt-a-World
Vote for this poem
|