I was taught to mold words
which were not to be spoken off.
I used to breathe those dejected words
to my lungs in and out.
My mouth is against a war with the ribs.
Now I speak, but my hands are still trembling.
I had broken my bones,
bend them to stars and then the shape of the sun.
They were so beautiful,
I then turn them into stone walls
just to know that they are strong.
I cracked the glass against the wall.
The shards of my heart, sharp edged with glory.
Mismatched, mistaken and mislead.
I am whole, apart and in-between.
No comments:
Post a Comment