Friday, January 8, 2010

time to let go


jaded vines grow thick,
running up my spine,
black and green,
teal running to my fingertips,
drops of fear and anger tainting the blood-pool
(she isn't yours, or anyone's)
--out of control and 
frothing from the inside,
stretching, strangling,
suffocating and seething
(the voyage isn't yours to take)
--so let her go,
free-falling through the ashen sky--
the fall won't take her life,
the dive can't take her ambition:
her roots run deep and tangled
...she will always be grounded,
in her own sense--
she will always be grounded…
(she isn't yours, or anyone's)
…so let her go.

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