9 Aug

there are moments

I can’t fix, questions

I can’t un-ask. Sighs

I can’t breathe back in.


Regret like a snake coils

through my chest, squeezing


too late

far too late

the dull coals of morning

finishing in the rain


If an army could put back the dyke

I’d send them, strong backs and

certain hearts. But they’d chant

“can’t fix it” at me for miles.


And I’d start to believe them.


2 Responses to “”

  1. Missy August 9, 2008 at 11:53 am #

    If you can’t fix it, rebuild it.

    Lordy, you have a way with words, girl.

  2. magdalena August 9, 2008 at 5:23 pm #

    This very poem is the reason you should believe in yourself. Your words are magical and not everyone put on this Earth can do this. Period.

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