Monday, September 04, 2006

Murmurs (Press)

I'm sick
of shifting my eyes
to the door as it opens,
freezing with ice
that tingles my skin
under all of this
heavy, loud air,
and stares
that clear the scene
for only me.
And life
just moves in circles
over my head,
a vulture
waiting.
I can't
get up, my eyes open
and close, and the weight
of my body holds me,
I fall back, and lay here,
in silence, blind.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Your poem is very interesting but kinda depressing, and very deep!

Anonymous said...

It was a really good poem, but it had a lot of commas in it.