Outlet to black charger to phone....
Words written on tiny key pad...
White cord circling to my ear drums...
I shake my long hair back and forth...
I stomp my uggs like I am playing my guitar...
Mirassou bottle to the right...
Indian spirit candle to left....
Nails left for me to hang my art in the center...
Distraction sets in from the energy of the music that fills my vessels...
Oh I play my kitchen table like its my drum....
Shadows align my blue walls...
Dim lights encounter my mind..
I slide my back down the yellow chair with my left shoulder hitting the cold fridge...
Ohhh I use my sacral to bellow the words that echo loudly off my hollow kitchen walls...
Warm hands ground my eyes, my hunched head...
The present sucumbs me...
I force my heart to listen to the violin that pierces it deeply...
I just close my eyes instead this time.... Sit here forgive and thankyou...
No comments:
Post a Comment