Saturday, September 25, 2010

Some things I wrote while getting my oil changed...


Your silence acts as a beacon
Throwing blinding light upon me
Squeeze my eyes tight against the glare
I don't want to see
Refuse to see, refuse to say

This endless trail of maybe
Led deeper into oblivion
away from the safety of home
Drawn by my infinite naive hope
Shelter from the storm

This roof leaks, it's no shelter
Rains doubt and suspicion
down on my jaded head
My foundation lies swollen
in damp, dirty lies

These useless metaphors dance jigs
in my head, laughing and reeling
My own self-mockery drives me
and up go my hands as I say
to me, "So Fucking What?"

copyright @andrea lyn cole 2010



Four A.M.
Here we are alone again
When everyone has already gone
Somehow finds us all alone
Those wee hours offer solitude
The air breathes honesty, whispers
Secrets between me and you

copyright @andrea lyn cole 2010

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