Yesterdays deeds descend on raptors wings
talons flare and slice into my mind
tearing through the carefully constructed facade of hope
i bleed, into tomorrow
ancestoral wounds reopen with vengence
defecting logic and maming reason
proclaiming the torment of self loathing valid
i bleed, drip with sorrow
(re-post from some time in 2002)
Is there a more perfect time to write than we are bleeding? It seems we are at a loss for words, but our spirits are speaking all the time.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this gift of words, Kim.
Nevine
Nevine - I wrote this some time ago... I was 'bleeding' then and yes - it helped me speak from the spirit when it was confusing to speak from the flesh.
DeleteMy thanks also for 6/08/2012. I left you a comment there, too. Thank you, Kim.
ReplyDelete