Poetry « morgamic.com

28Oct/09Off

Slip

I remember the jungle gym of childhood
Crusted yellow paint and the smell of dirt
Grasping the air, I missed a bar
Complete chaos for seconds

Now my hair is wet, warm and thick
Tears well up, but nobody sees them
The nearest person is too far to hear
When you were close enough, I cried

You carried me to the car
I felt vinyl and rumbling
The light of the ER was hot,
like the needle that numbed me

Six stitches fixed me
Ice cream felt good on my lips
You ate it with me,
but you're lactose intolerant

12May/05Off

I stare into my coffee,
watching the cream swirl
as it dissolves into hot blackness.

My coffee is kinder than your eyes,
cutting through my paper heart,
poking holes in my confidence.

I start to fumble words;
enourmous wooden blocks
made of feelings too heavy for
an infant's hands.

One turn after another,
I spiral down...
like the cream.

Finally I dissolve,
and fade into who you think I am.

19Dec/04Off

We find the easy way.
Up, down, around, sloshing through the thick -
we untangle, climb and conquer.

Still, pain is mind's mortality,
crinkling hope like paper -
each fiber breaking cleanly in the fold.

Sing pain again;
of women, drugs and alcohol,
of faint stale dawns.

Your eyes paint me -
a figurine on a step,
breathing fog.

My lips steam.
I watch my breath -
quietly swallowed by night.

I stare into the light,
farther along this path,
and wonder if we'll ever meet.