bohemians.
2006-05-17 12:21 p.m.
honey, i have ten names tied up to my fingersand each one of them is valid, tells a story
about the importance i once placed on coupling and cover stories, on resistance and remembering.
So, catalogue me, i am able bodied, i am ready willing to descend those heights i've mentioned, that i've surmounted in my speech, in following its patterns.
Wail out the warning, the infant song, the lullaby, cry out the sentencing, the jury nod, the gavel proud to know its master
sounds heavily in wooden tones. the room fills up with watchers, overflows as they run over.
don't dare tell me i'm heavy.
don't dare tell me i'm wrong.
don't dare tell me you'll miss me.
just walk on, walk on, our lives have changed, your holds the key, and mine holds the doorframe, clings to itself in comforting, waves to you silently
watches you leave.