Living echo
Life is so strange,my mind’s a machine,weaving whispered keys—Buñuel and Lynch in between. The angels insidescratch at the door,wings on my heart,fly on the wall. Concrete burnsthe feet once free,touched by sand,lost to the sea. Where are you now?Where did you go?A living echo of youI struggle to know. One day I’ll write downall the…
On the shore of the wide world
You used to hang around long enough to catch the sun go down as it illuminated my face on the green grass by the wild meadows where we played one night by the tree where you held me tight The waves are crashing on the sand I’m cancerous you can’t see me but I thought…
Mother
I am a mother now I am more than myself I am what I am to her My worries are no longer only about me, they are also about her My desires have merged into what her future could be I want her to be proud of her mother I must be better and I…
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Writings in Blue 