they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

grasping.

i seem to remember things in chunks now. a smell. a look. a fabric. how hot it was outside. and so my mind spins to make order from the chaos of memories that i don't want to own. not in my history. not woven into the tapestry that cloaks my forever walls. but they remain. the building blocks of who i became. this soul. this embrace. this courage that i wish would spill forth even more. instead of seeping like watermelon juice onto the corners of a paisley platter.

1 Comments:

  • At 11:16 AM, Blogger Laura Seymour said…

    your past makes up the fabric of the wonderful woman you have become and are becoming. even the ugly things can turn out to be something beautiful when woven together...

     

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