Trusting you
Won’t mean the death,
Of me
But from my
Inverted view,
Sometimes that’s so hard,
To see
Words that carry
Weight
Linger, still
A Times Square ticker,
‘cross my brain
cause you meant what
you said
and you said,
what you meant
that I know
to be true
one hundred percent;
I do.
So why’s your
Spoken,
On my edge?
Pick up
the phone
my fingers,
hedge
‘cause they seem,
to understand
what I won’t allow
myself,
to see
that my own
undoing,
will mean the needless
death, of me.
Need to
Quell,
My infighting
Give my over-actives
A clear sighting
Let the sleep creep,
Invade
Shut out
My noise, non-white
And blink;
To fade.
Chrissie 11.11.06