Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Splatters on the sill

Splatters
on the window
splatters
on the sill
empty
warm
and cozy
in here
wry
are the tears
still

bringing forth
an arid chill

a whisper
waiting til

the sunrise
over the hill



Thursday, March 3, 2016

Battered cells

Painted alive
temple
or shrine
when I worship it
just to repair
on healing plants
it shall then dine
mugwort
and milk thistle
and a prayer
of mercy, or two
to pay for
what's past due
is the secret
that lies
that lies
in you

yes
the secret that lies in you
is written in a tinge
when desperation
was impinged
to keep
from becoming
unhinged
the immensity
internalized
makes me cringe ...

The pain
went under recognized
but it had to move
a solidier in disguise
though a butterfly...

Yes a butterfly
with a combat shield
in snow barren fields
without much yield
with fragility concealed ...

but how long could it go on
how long could a bandage last
how long could plaster be cast
with sweat and tears
under the mask ...

and now beneath the shell
lies a frail and battered
bunch of cells
at the mercy
at the gate
this body can
no longer
wait


-R.W.G

girloutside.org