she looks at me and says
-it seems like you've been down
forever-
cuts me to the heart
with that bleak photograph
superimposed over my mirror
i want to just surrender
throw in that limp rag i've been waving
and collapse
i've been trying so long
to make sure i'd never hear you say
you're done. sit down.
yet another failure to mark down
but i've got just enough grit left in these veins
enough cement in these bones to say
maybe tomorrow
maybe tomorrow i'll be okay.
1 comment:
well, the contents of your helm is deep, but you're not through waving that rag. Good poem, a bit depressing, but still a good poem. love that "bleak photograph superimposed over my mirror" line.
The last lines remind me of a little song i sing sometimes. "tomorrow, tomorrow, i hate you tomorrow; you're always a day away
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