to open your eyes
in the morning
is a blessing and a curse
an iron burned upon my chest
a pile of coals brought beneath me
there's a benson burner which
irks me into movement, a distinct push
into a direction that boils my heart
amble into relaxation, a sense of flow
imbues within others a very significant glow
to achieve the same is to mimic, to shame
but how else are we to become our own name?
awakening is a pain
but the suffering is well worth it
awakening is a pain
let life rescind its purchase
YOU ARE READING
sprinkle in the woods (poetry #6)
Poetry"and it rains and rains and rains and rains for five more years and it's cloudy for ten once they leave, i'll be sunkissed i'll be the rock in the light illuminated simply by your presence my fallen star, you've finally met me and it's so lovely lov...
