Seasons Prey

I don’t listen to God
So why would I listen to the birds?
Why would I listen to the bees?
You say you can fulfill my needs
But I am a goddess
But I am the leaves
             On the trees.
My body shakes
            With their breeze
But now my feet are rooted to your carpet floor
And, for some reason, I can’t move anymore.

(All this time,
       I thought I had a choice.)

His wind drew slits so I could open my eyes,
Azure to the sky— an infant to life.
I waved to the knight as I grew colder.
       For some time, I was frozen
                                    for him.

I saw my cheeks blush and fall to the ground.
I remember the way it felt to see myself decay…
       I was raked away.
       I was left bare.
All I had was the snow.
       The white powder up my nose.
No sweet birds to sing in harmony.
No bees to teach me what love means.

And here I am
Planted outside your door,
       Already so unsure,
       Already too confused,
              So tired–
            Too tired–
          Of playing the muse.

While your sunshine could sustain my state,
I will always
       Fall
           and
                Pray
                   and
                       Fall
                          Prey
          To the seasons.

Those will come and go, boys carving their names
       Enclosed with mine in a heart
But your the one who will always know my pain
       As they chip away
              at the bark.

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About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Love, Love, Life and Other Trivial Pursuits, My Favourites, Recovery (USA) and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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