i could write the world today.

i could pour out my soul and paint
the sky upon the clouds.
i could soar with the eagles, and
feel enlightened.

i could,
i could...

but here i lay, broken
here i lay, feet spread and lifeless
here i lay, on the floor of my stomach
here i lay, unenthused.

but i could,
i could...

i could line the stars with such silver, and
speak the volumes that my mind projects.
i could hold the fingertips of newborns, lost
and spring into action in one foul swoop.

i could,
i could...

but instead, i turn, twisted,
cast iron in the make shift.
here i am, an individual lost;
here i am, unrelinquished.

but i could,
i could.

i could sing to silence a room,
or drown in laughter's afterglow.
i could dance with the angels,
and claim my spot in the sun.

i could,
i could...

i could write the world today,
if i could only open my eyes
and if i only dared to dream.

08/27/2003

Author's Note: i *hate* this piece. the opening line rocks, but it all broke at the seams after that.

Posted on 08/27/2003
Copyright © 2025 Rachelle Howe