only an…

[Here’s a little bit; was picked up from a piece of something I wrote in November of 2007, and added to.]

an overdose holds
controls need. For
a moment,
all is seen:
each alone is sweet
the breeze moans,
a heartbeat,
5am, and a street;
any dream
can be a scene
to glean being

the trees for
audibly, the leaves
fall, crunch all.
Those bereft of closure
seams, grief stalls.
Grace –
when in a hall,
balled up, in a shawl – is
wind blown past
like secrets odes:
where is the threshold for an overdose.
He who goes
into a coma knows
he who sees defeat
stays comatose,
else he sees the street
and is composed;
by consequence,
a pass, a confidence,
still a home,
still a countenance,
still the silence,
of my occupants.

Still I rise,
still I rise against.

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1 Response to only an…

  1. toi6 says:

    i like it alot lol

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