Hard as a rock
I fall to my knees
and wish to never see
again the look
on mother’s face
when pleading at the table,
“I will follow you,
I do.”
To sink lower
into the ground
my face has discovered
uncertainty,
awaiting the voice of a God
and some other man
I’d never wish to meet–
perhaps I’ll be him instead,
stand tall and relax
my shaky pores,
opening up into the all-florescent
light to omit a single,
unwanted presence:
uncertainty,
pressing its face on my nerves.
August 19, 2014
Reaching Joy 
Thank you ❤
Intense and beautiful.
This is very true! Keep up the awesome blogging. (-:
I’ve written some prose, but it’s never come as naturally as poetry. We gotta stick with what we love! 🙂
I wish I was a poet, but as such I shall stick to prose. (-:
Thanks so much!
Nicely done. (-: