small girl am i , sitting in relative silence
a palecolor aura around me , wearing eyes. i listen , talk less.
treelike , i am patient and watchful. mostly like wind but

colors i laughingly watch painted across a wide canvas
with broad delight
and all joy is mine but

cat-eyed , dusty books their visions bleeding into me
and my element the strength of serenity bathing me but

i will not allow my voice to become nothing and your hand
take it away from my mouth
your pen away from my words - i will draw blood
my fangs will make your silence bleed.
me alone i am nothing; but my children my words my voice
with embattled emotion i will caterwaul and rip.

you i will love i will adore with angelic gaze,
and your inflection will carve records into my memory. peace--

my fangs will make your silence bleed.

04/07/2003

Author's Note: no way to express this mixedup emotion when another of equal passion comes in in the middle...confused emotions = bad poetry, you know.

Posted on 04/08/2003
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