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Literature Text
Tomorrow
lurks beneath your tongue,
mocking me
with hefty promises.
I'm false bravado
in human confinements,
heartbeats rotting--
I know
the goodbye exists,
breathing
beneath your baggage.
I pile more sauce
onto your spaghetti,
praying it will settle--
dead weight--
in your stomach
and keep you loving
the flaws of me
for one more day.
lurks beneath your tongue,
mocking me
with hefty promises.
I'm false bravado
in human confinements,
heartbeats rotting--
I know
the goodbye exists,
breathing
beneath your baggage.
I pile more sauce
onto your spaghetti,
praying it will settle--
dead weight--
in your stomach
and keep you loving
the flaws of me
for one more day.
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Day back to the grind tomorrow.
Day 21This could REALLY use another title...any suggestions?
April 21st, 2013
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Comments18
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The ending stanza is beautiful. It is like taking the mundane and imbuing it with a power born from desperation. Yet, it would seem that the ending feeling isn't one of optimism. You build up your vessel of redemption, and yet doom it all the same.