I never had been born. It was old hands
that sketched my frame. Hands that knew how to suffer
wisely. It was a gift
to my bones, a curse that shifts
with weight and time.
Clocks wait on scales to tip time. I am rushed.
Blood cycles through my life.
Old lines outline my eyes. I am timed.
I slept with a man
and was traced. He recreated me; my child.
My simple face on a prettier canvas.
I didn’t wish for this.
I didn’t dream.
She just belongs to me.
I drag my bones along aching seas
each step pains deeper with memory,
Dark lines shade over mine.
They try to erase me
From my bones, I cry.
I cannot be
an easy sketch of a memory.
We leave our mark in this world. We express emotions.
This is so beautiful. I love the emotions in your poetry, they are so pure and uncovered.
That was really lovely, thank you.
Yes there is definitely a purity with your writing
I can connect with this intimately. Great writing. Spoons to you.
Wow. Thank you! Appreciate your work and look forward to more.
Wow that is beautiful. Appreciate your work and look forward to more.
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I like this – particularly the stark and startling first line.
I really enjoy how the words were crafted in this poem. I can really sense the depths of your heart crying out onto the page. I would really appreciate it if you would check out my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/kbeezyisviral
Maggie Mae, you rock, your writing rocks, your writing so moves me that I nominated you for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award at http://kittomalley.com/2014/06/06/very-inspiring-blogger-award/. Thank you.
you are so wonderful! Thanks Kitt!
You are most welcome.
“Hands that knew how to suffer wisely.”
Now that is a punch in the gut sentence. Beautifully crafted.
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
“FROM MY BONES I CRY”