Thursday, January 22, 2009

No One Other Than Me

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I held, and as I clutched the intoxication of desire unmet,
my own fingers interwined with one another
spoke words of solitary result, though not with regret

I tasted, the bittersweet fruit,
not ready to be picked yet able to detach,
too ripe and sweet to not make me long for more

So I explored, through fields of curiousity and trenches of doubt,
rising high in extasy, then falling low beneath my own feet,
only left with moving ground

Still I stand,
wondering if there's even a master plan.
Seeking to find the way back to my home in the sky, in the sea,
on the moon, where I'd rather be.

Through uncharted territory always convinced my way is so sure,
always convinced but still insecure,
I'll admit those days when my flowers not in bloom,
those days when I fell I stepped out too soon

For who must I be?
No one other than me.
Strip me of my beauty, my intriguing stare,
the way it feels there, when I knowingly dare

And what would be left? who would be left?
Then I wouldn't even care who was even there,
no it'd be all just dream, nothing more than what it seems.

1 comment:

Bless├Ęd Beauty said...

nice poem, nice words, nice flow.