Feeling
I forget myself and let my mind dwellTo beautiful misery places,
with doorways getting wider and my hands sweating;
Awakening the wild and putting impossible to sleep.
Strange corners of affection, pushing
and pulling up, leaving me behind:
Recreating life - not being a wife, a whore,
A dictator, a woman - but being in mud
as if I have no other covers.
Not cutting , nor hiding, not killing
Doing nothing but feeling.
Wherever it takes me, I'm nursing the
strange part, feeding my killer child:
Knowing as if I always knew,
While I never knew me;
I will take what I am, swallow my blame
Give it to the snow, throw it back - throw it out.
Through years it didn't desert it's shelter.
Like the best of: it ate its own creation,
sucked out it's product, sucked out life.
Being extremely shy, in need of master
Yet out there bursting with life and seeking shelter.
Letting my inner child out, protesting authority
Looking for mirror images, looking for, looking for..
Poetry by FrancescaLuca
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Written on 2009-08-17 at 08:25
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