Voices

Who I was, was hidden from me
Behind a veil of history and expectation.
Little voices that weren't mine
Spoke in my stead.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Broadcasting Idiocy

Mesmerized, my eyes flick across the screen. A storm of images flashing, violently erupting. Thoughts quake and tremble under the pressure of picture after picture cascading down until all that is left is the shadow of an idea, a faint imprint of a notion. Pixels now the remnants of what was once a world.
Read more

Part of a poem

Immobilized by awe, She stands in the foothills As the distant wildfire haze settles Into the twisting oaks' golden branches.  Beams of solidified sunlight touch That aching part of her She usually shields like a newborn-- Cradling it and preventing its exposure To her burning world.
Read more

A Word

I see it now: Our lives have been spiraling towards this, Ready to converge in a single word I can't reclaim. Like the moon's gravitational pull  Makes the oceans swell to her, Your being moves me In ways I can't control. I lie awake, with all of time Expanding and condensed, Thinking about milliseconds  That mean the death or life of everything. Is this how god felt when she wondered What word to use to breathe life into the universe? Did she, too, question the right intonation, And agonize over the ramifications Of saying that word at all? Maybe now she looks upon her creation  And wishes she held her tongue. 
Read more