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risking it all
At some point you have to ask yourself,
Is life worth risking it all?
The hope is that eventually we could write the poem
That would free us of the need of poetry.
The dream is that this is only a rough draft,
And that maybe next time I wont say that to you.
And at this point I think the goal
Is to find some comfort,
We might as well, in our arms crying.
The chilly night embraces everything we are
And refuses to hug,
It offers us immortality,
And says we will never wake up.
They say he didn’t have redeeming qualities,
Not even before he was killed,
And our babies had such wonderful lives,
Please stop with the questions.
She asked is this the guilt
That my innocence obligated me?
She wonders how tight the rope needs to be
To keep her from falling
And if it will hurt her neck at all.
She wants to write songs
And forget about the beats.
She wants to put her hands between her legs
And say I beat my baby.
She wants to pat herself
And say she could have done much better.
She wants her mother to remember her
And she will bring her mother flowers
And ask what her mother is in a position
To promise her now?
She wants to remember all that certainty
And say that childhood was a tight blindfold
But the blow she was taught to fear never came
She needs to get used to the rot
Before death.
