New Poetry Wednesday: Swim

Swim

Embroiled, buried under the words
Words written in the past
Cannot remember the torture
Pressed into their ink yet
It is there to taunt as if
I have never grown or left
Even with it splashed across
Fraying yellowed pages
Want to think it is nothing
None to convincing
Have to stop falling,
Falling into the past
Where I die with every pass
Leave it on the page
The proper place and
Not a swimming pool
Blood, ink, and tears
Fantastic currents
But not to swim upstream

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s