writing

Arriving in Style

We plunged head first into the universe
Clutched hands too tense to cope.

And swam through a mile long milky way
Fighting frantically for hope.
And on the surface I wept a sickly sob
That grew in droves within me.
You nursed me, watched me build my cries
And instilled in me a fury.
Of a symphony so raucous and clear
That the world would never rival.
And it pulled the strings of my arteries
Until survival swaddled my soul.

Hands parted, we drifted out into the cosmos
Where we faced the world black as coal.

Sound

Brain no work with words today. How does one end a poem anyways?

This is for my mum because:
a) She’s an incredible human being.
b) She taught me how to fight, not with my anger, but with my heart.

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3 thoughts on “Arriving in Style

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