1. 22:36 29th Aug 2010

    Notes: 4

    Tags: my poetry

    picture perfect

    the frame tipped like my torso on the stairs and hit the ground like my knees skimmed the railing; hard, fast, sudden. i heard the glass break and felt raw - the fingers were back, digging themselves into the slices in my knees. the chunks crumbled around her face and i wondered what it meant, where the symbolism lay in a swift kick from the hot August hair knocking her to the ground, cutting up her foundation, distorting her smile. I’ve left here there, for now, in pieces on the dusty tile. I can’t look at her, and my sill is empty, aching, but I can’t hold her face in my hands and tell her what my life is like now, who I am and what I think, so instead we’ll be in the same state, distorted, cracked, barely held together but not afraid to smile.

     
    1. marissaisgod posted this