Thursday, June 5, 2014

Poetry

I make a small noise
It is a largely-joyful tiny noise

I feel this crazed need, this nearly consuming but entirely invisible
Need to always be young, always be able
To sit outside in the summer, sweat dripping down
To hear the faraway birds, long to fly myself
Thinking there could possibly still be time.

Though I'm burning to live all the different choices I could have made
I love where the choices I chose and those I didn't
Have led me.

They have faces now, my choices.

There are lives sprung up from my romance, the flowers of my makeshift garden.
"Help me have a better best to do for these", I plead.
I make a small noise
It is a largely-joyful tiny noise.

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