Not lover or fighter
rumpled, crumbled
messy and blue
Saturated, wimpy
deflated flat balloon
Whimpering, blubbering
along stone walls
knuckles scratching
a broken record
No fairy dust or moon to
hang my magic
No cliff to scream the
plastic yell held
behind glass eyes
rolling like marbles.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s