In the passion of disappointment,
I burnt all my paper houses down,
all the towns and redwood forests,
even the glistening rivers burned.
"not good enough, not good enough, not good enough"
This destructive mantra, I will die with these words in my head.
Falling embers dance in the diming sky,
the only evidence of hours of toil,
pen scratching paper, I slept at my desk more times than I care.
Coffee rings and doodles
flush away on the cool currents of nighttime,
the white ash dull, representing the story
it once spelled out.
4-28-15
Lilly Stuart
:)
