The Back Stairs

I'll cease to exist as quickly as I became
In a moment; created
In the same; undone.
I can't be a brand new girl

Where did I come from
Olivier, do you know?
Where do I grow from
Olivier, will you tell?

I'm trying to be a real girl

I speak but not with my mouth
Olivier, will they believe me?
I never pretended to have wings
Filling your lungs is the easy part

Night comes quickly in recent days
Olivier, letting go of the rope
Is the test.

Giving in, falling back
My head; making contact with hard wood
Is this the end Olivier?

Vulnerable

Vulnerable:
adj. capable of being hurt or damaged



Your gun to my head
Entire skin be now shed
Inside becomes out
Feet of clay without doubt.

Slumbering Boy

 
I'm so afraid.
I've forgotten how to function; how to breathe.
My lips are red and dry, and as cracked as my will.
Statues would blink, turn their heads, speak words
That could never be
as we passed by. You and I; impossible
With frenzy in Elysium and then
In the early evening autumnal, auburn light, all this truth
makes me slaver.
My pupils blown with thirst
Who am I to enjoy such fresh hope?
Each night, lying next to your warm ghost.
I tremble,
Filled with cornflower-blue dreams
And maddening, hopeful needs.
Sunlight and snow; beautiful; unavoidable opposites
That draw nearer with each touch our lips don't make,
And with every embrace we never share.



If things start happening, don't worry, don't stew,
just go right along and you'll start happening too.

~ Dr Seuss