Bluehands
By Kiah
My mind is flurried and my heart is afire, thoughts are scurried as I walk this highwire. Sleeping beauty is killing me slowly, lifted me up just to make me lowly. Tumble, tumble until I hit the ground, mumble, mumble until I can’t make a sound. My life is not yours, as yours is not mine. We have to realize this in our sweet time. Crumpled parts torn asunder, yet still I gaze in wonder. The intricately folded edges, of my own tormented pledges. Still I find myself and all my pieces, fallen down inside the creases.The title, although not noticeably correlated to the poem, does have a ryhme & a reason. I was literally wringing my own hands & the third line about Slepping beauty killing incesned me so very much. Looking at my hands, blue with my constrited blood, I hatched and created this. Written November 18th, 2001 © on Nov 18 2001 01:32 PM PST 18 • 0 • 1
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"My mind is flurried and my heart is afire,..."