Monday, April 18, 2005


Transition due to my transgressions
My journey,
a fit of excessiveness

I celebrate the dreg that has become my humanity
viewing life through the bottom of wine colored glasses

A mother I am not
a martyr I may well be

Longing for sleep in the light
shaking with nervous endeavers through the dark

Frantic agitation

Incapable of stillness
yet longing for a moments peace


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