Zach (extrovert_whore) wrote in seven_shades,

My answer:

I keep meaning to post more here. I plan on answering the question of the week soon, but for now I just have a poem.


As the sun bursts through your eyelids,
and the breath slowly realizes itself,
and the mourning birds fall silent to watch:
You remember everything.
The deluge of words threatens to imbrue;
everything that was once said or done comes to
this, the peak of the tallest slope
of the most jagged mountain range.

I shall not be guilted.
I won’t allow myself the indulgence that comes from pain.
Rather, I will sit here, on my rock, and wait.
Wait for movies and magic.
Wait for the night to carry away the deepening cracks.
Wait for the moment when magic becomes penetration
and penetration means moving on.

Simplest in the morning,
glory comes to my rock and fills me and I am filled
with her spirit and her power and I am assured that I will
be used and mistreated.
I shall not be guilted.
I won’t allow myself to satisfaction of pain. 

Simplest as the sun bursts through your eyes
and your breath slows in silent realization
that all your fears are on display for the world.
You take and take but never stop
to consider that somewhere
might strike back.

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