Monday, April 19, 2010

When Dragons Whine


I am the product of your throwaway words,
My mother's burned-out candles,
A violent, beautiful world,
An unprescribed strip of TCA, nightly.

I am much less than the glue that holds society together -
I am a vine, a weed creeping through the preexisting cracks.
I pretend the streetlamps are the moonlight,
And I feed on last month's newspapers.

I could be the buoy you cling to, keeping you up,
Or the rope pulling you deeper below the surface.
I will shrug the salt and debris from my shoulders,
And board your sinking ship.

I am knotted together with complexes,
Shielded by my opinions,
I hold wit as my sword and pull no punches,
And wear burn-scars as war-paint.

I don't believe I can change the world,
I merely want to shatter the silence.
I will break hearts, I will break bones,
And I will have my dreams broken in turn.

I'm safe where I am, and jaded,
I am weathered and accustomed to being the ground beneath your feet.
I never realised how important I was until then.
And I despise it.

But enough about me.

PS: I hear dragons whine when I sleep.

6 comments:

Dee Dee said...

stupendous flow...love every wit/bit of it

~N~ said...

I think you are unbelievably talented. love love love.

Nothingman said...

I will break hearts, I will break bones,
And I "won't" have my dreams broken in turn

*edited one word :P

Dragons don't whine, they fuck shit up!

Go Girl!

N

Nikhil said...

And I still hear the echoes

fluttering as if upon marble chards


It seems the sleep still deceives


PS - Do they ever stop ??

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anupama said...

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