compassion.
2006-05-15 8:10 p.m.
symptom sisters, i've known your woes and i'vewritten them all out before so
don't try.
don't try to say it right.
hang the street signs, they're
waiting like your arms raised high
thank heaven
thank heaven if you might.
this is no place to play innocent, so smear your lips to mine, take cover
the war is coming and you're weak. you're so easy
to hide.
seek slumber in the early evening, the trees that lined city streets
have lined our wrists as easily, left us
begging our reprieve, this slip
self-conscious
will scrape our knees.
tell me what you wanted (a history) at thirteen, when you thought that you were brilliant, and still discovering, your friends were silent, reverent
at that great and mighty struggle
you had made for waging.
tell it like it was.
tell it like you've managed to leave them all behind, shrugging your shoulders, your pride condemning, your feet
forgiveness
personified.
i have no other option, symptom sisters, than to leave you with my graces, for i am no great woman, and i have little more to give than what i've given -
although i have tired,
i have tried to be gentle
this time.