#80
Starring at your lives
not minding to mind mine,
starring at your lives
wasting all my time.
trick myself and say
it’ll help me to unwind,
i sift through all their lives
to distract myself from mine.
#81
Funny, when the flash comes
memory reigns,
and i toil,
odd, how it’s still buried,
shame, i can’t look forward,
sometimes a shriek from the past,
out of reach from the dimmer, or
the plug, a switch to turn me off,
to shut me down, to make it stop.
#82
Fucking wind,
Fucking spotty pens,
as if writing
wasn’t hard enough
on its own.
#83
Her mother weeps from the blasphemy,
from the heresy,
bleeding black mascara,
the happiest day became the most vicious,
breaking the dam of months
of relentless nightmares to torrents around
the abandoned bride,
She surfs their sorrow, riding tumbling
waves of grief, and self doubt,
the onlookers gasp and sigh,
arms pinned helpless to her yelps,
with nothing to clean her tears
but the broken veil, its coarse fabric
welting her cheeks.
#84
Don’t mind me-
mind the gap,
mindfulness in turn
will keep the mind on track
she’s mine,
our medicine her,
cooling creative mind
that i don’t mind mining,
her hand to mine,
it reminds me
that whats mine is not mine but ours
whats ours is my time alive
which i don’t mind at all.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write