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
          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.


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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