Poetry Blogs (stuck)

I feel the pricks of sand beneath my tender hands,

As though I were sat atop a shattered glass beach,

With my head cocked towards the blissful Sky.

I don't understand how this could be;

As I do not feel,

the pain of others within the crevices of my fingers.

For I was born to rain upon this world,

In magnificent showers.

But where I am now

-- between the se...

Read and leave comments (0)

The hand reached into the pocket and pulled out lint. Expecting the worst, the lint was a better gift than anticipated. A cop asked me if there are any sharp objects she should know about, I say, "no", knowing that I have dirty tricks up my sleeve. I am arrested. It could always have been worse. So could I. But here I am. Jail Cell. Alone. No friends close. No bail. Alone. Surrounded by humans ...

Read and leave comments (0)