Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Headache


Headache


Soon I’ll be a fugitive
of my own skin, raw.
I’ve chosen the rare
sensation of  tainted
blood to outfit my
bow of thorns.  Today
I will not clutch a fist
in the wind’s sneer,
nor will I disenchant
my examiners. I will
wait for the postman
to deliver the world turning
from my rented attic;
wait for the headache
to ease, or go away
all together.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Blog Archive

Followers