This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Untitled (Martyr and Astrology)

If asked,
I will deny the truth.
I will not
put my hand
on your heart
and swear to you what I see;
that would be blasphemy
to you.

I am no martyr.

Your bloody paw
your empty ring
Your tangled hair
your lost keys:
I will not swear your truth
to you.

Can you see what you're going to do yet? Do you have any idea?

I may disagree.

People praise my confidence,
and I cannot even see.
It is written here.
That is what it looks like:
I'll read it to you.
to be certain of a truth
coming from the heart
of the world's walking wounded.

The shadow you talked about,
can you let it go?
Do you need to let it go?

me: you're holding on to something
some angst over her and she wants you to let her go.

bunny fur
bloody foot
key ring
bye bye
your friend? your love?

I apologized socially
and heavily
for all the babies born, so soft,
She's doing it again
against the world
raised always in pain being pricked
by spikes
And I am powerless to stop her
of passersby who didn't see how
their heads were held just so.

Those babies hide and cry.
No mama,
no food,
no dry sheets comfort.
All they can do in this life
is hide and cry
And find a way out to the truth
with out pulling the shade down.
I feel their pain;
so acute
and raw and
I'm so sorry they hurt.

I am no martyr.

(Confidence is not
saying whatever you feel.
Confidence is feeling,
and hurting more to
lie against truth,
than to bear the consequence
of pain.)

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