beautiful child,
how i wish the dawn
would arrive for you
earlier than six am. for in the darkness of depression,
self loathing, and doubt, i am stolen away,
and there your pain dissolves me.
into the cuts i feel
one with the disgust and
deprevation.
i want to be absorbed
by your womb, but
not as a lover, as a sister
(as the sister i am).
i want you to reach for me
(as i reach for you...)
you try to tell me,
to quell my fears
with flowery words,
(the kind that can only
be bred from the heart of a poet...)
you try and explain how you're
"better now" and how
"it'll all blow over in the morning..."
you try and tell me
that it's nothing, and i hate to say it,
i hate to say it, but
i know better.

07/30/2002

Posted on 07/30/2002
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