gliding toward the gilded cage with artful grace
effort barely exerted
as I become my own jailer

sounds of footprints as elusive as evidence from a ghost hunt

glide, wide-eyed optimism replaced with dull dark circled sockets
Sweeney Todd seems more innocent than me sometimes.

As I crack the whip at my heels, memory stain replays from my brain.

glide, no matter how hard I try some things just cannot go away.
Always a trace of the bitter agony mixed with an indifferent air.

Nestled snugly between God and granite counter tops
What to believe as I throw away the bible and worship Mr. Clean?

glide, whipped into a frenzy of peace a withering yard stick losing inches
Frozen at the raging words uttered from once friendly lips

glide into a gentle storm that rips away my will

yielding to a glide


14 thoughts on “glide

    • Thanks. When I wrote it, I really did go into my head and I didn’t know what I meant by a few lines after. But, then I figured out what was on my mind that I didn’t even fully realize at the time. Funny how that works.

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