Tuesday, May 11, 2010


I know that there may be wars inside your head sometimes
And how
Some of them you might have to fight alone.
But I pray every night that you might have strength
And you pray every night that if the darkness comes too big
I’ll see you up there.
And you’ll meet the sharpness halfway

Brother of mine, there are swamps that we come from,
A hive that’s buzzing full of possibilities that we missed the day after we were born.
So I want you to stick your hand in there to touch mine.

Remember: We are but bumps on God’s wrinkled kneecaps and it’s okay to run
To bend in the middle – that’s normal – but not away from our family hive,
Don’t bend because honeycomb isn’t flexible and we got stung all those years ago to make sure we stayed away from opportunity.
I learned that long ago, trust me.
I haven’t been still since then, and I’m just trying to catch up to my heart

I’ve let it out of my hands too many times
And I need to learn how to hold it tighter because there will always be hungry birds that fly around us all.


1 comment:

Lauren said...

I like this. I think the heart of it is the insect thing (the bird is a great turn at the end). This seems unfinished to me... I'd encourage you to explore the insect imagery and reduce as much as possible superfluous metaphors and similes.