Monday, June 28, 2010

10 pm -- poem

It’s ten o’clock and my heart’s still pounding
I’m glad to know it works but
it’s overkill

you screamed at me and my ears didn’t break
my heart bruised from the tidal sound waves, though
I kind of wish it would stop its percussion
giving me a headache from this

I reacted like a snake
but the poison’s in my blood,
nauseating my future
unless I can

pray harder than a nun,
to the God I choose to believe in
yet choice isn’t really mine—
I was chosen to live through this

like every hurricane, tidal wave,
flood, and plague
there’s a day of static living,
unnoticed heartbeats,
near-death breaths,
gazes on horizons
from which we expect
the sun

so here’s to tomorrow,
or the next day if that’s what’s meant
to be
the calm after this storm
or the one before the next

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