Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Runner













So again I break free from every cage,
every attachment to these inconsequentials.
I work my loneliness, true to me, freedoms wage,
and set out to fly into the blue like  sea gulls.

I grip tightly my control and muse at death,
imagining the swift jerk and painless glory.
How long before they wonder at my breath?
...how long would the cold road weep for me?

Yet this needle's comfort, this blade's draw,
marks out my way into the deep infinite night.
I am heartless, no remorse, made of straw,
I will not miss you till the squinting light.




4 comments:

  1. I love the fragile beauty of being made of straw...wonderful write as always...

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    Replies
    1. And here I thought I was making a shameless wizard of oz reference.

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