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Crazy

Crazy

Crazy

He wants me to draw,
He thinks my creativity can be summoned.
He should know better.
Might even say…
He should know best.

I am here,
Contending with thoughts…
To touch,
…kiss,
…maybe I better not say.
I am fighting fantasies,
About counters,
…couches,
…walls.

I.
Really.
Should.
Not.
Say.

I am breathing.
Exhaling.
Marinating butterflies,
In the love pit of my tummy…
Toward my golden gates…

And he’s there trying to summon my creativity.

Crazy.

Copyright 2014
Poetry by Jeannie Shaw

She Was

She Was

she was dying in there
slowly but surely
losing herself…
hiding
crying
defending
fighting
losing

she was everything sad
fading slowly into a dark hole
she was failure and demise
even worse, she was out of touch with her soul

she was dying in there
slowly but surely
losing herself…
thoughts
wants
desires
dreams
connections

she was everything wrong
doing nothing right
she was a bird without wings
even worse, one with wings but no flight

Copyright October 2014
Jeannie Shaw Poetry

 

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