melissaahowells
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my legs are so much older than I am
one works and one does not at night I prop myself up in my bed its a warm space however, I don't sleep a lot my right hand aches so my left hand fills in when the other cannot I'm learning to live differently to practice accepting the sort of choices most people would not I count the stars I talk to the moon I make stories up in my head I keep myself company into the night and journey when others snore and dream away in their beds I grab the covers massage them with my feet I swaddle my weary head I have tried prescriptions and magical potions and God knows what Exhaustion works the very best so far. I wonder how much longer I'll be waiting here And will there be talk of me ever after I'm dead we all occupy a space that's ours and when that space goes bare where exactly do we go does a zephyr carry us gently up floating peacefully into the night expansive air will I be recycled will I simply be gone will I be like a blank un-filled-in space what if part of me lingers on to continue witnessing what I'm supposed to miss and see how I've been replaced will I be a ghost will I roam the earth will I haunt the places I have been and never been will I be the dust to mix with the rain that falls upon the earth that bossoms and bursts all new green life cycling over and over again if there are miles between what's here and now or if there are but a few blocks let each moment of my last days be ones to cherish when I am finally lost. LEGAL COPYRIGHT 10/20/2020 3:21 pm PST TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE-MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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