Kitty Brew's Poetry

Lost

Where am I?
I think I lost myself back there
I used to be so happy and free
Now I'm just a nothing

It's so hard to push these feelings
Through a blackened rusty heart
They catch and tear
And become mutilated

Someone will get home eventually and answer the ringing phone
If I can  just hold on long enough
He'll be there
Come on baby, come on come on PLEASE

Where did I go?
I know I glimpsed myself around here recently
But she's gone
Frustrated depressed and crazy

How long have I been gone?
I didn't notice it at first
I think I had myself just yesterday
Could have sworn I'd stayed right there

Did I run away?
It must be so hard on me
I must have gotten scared and ran away
The great void is not a pleasant thought

But I thought I was making it okay!
 I thought I was free and happy
And knew myself so well
Is this the misery I've been begging for?

If so it's not good enough
Need more pain
Less laziness
I am so lazy!

Yes, that must be it
It must be that I am not searching hard enough
I'm too lazy to find myself
So I guess I'll just be forgotten.

Makeover


Strait curls blow through tendrils of hot air cooling slowly into place then
Powdery dust to paint onto this freckled canvas and defile it like a song
That masques its heart with pithy off-beat rhythms and whining vocals
When your heart beats so full behind it and bounces away
Into the upper ozone layer behind the sordid tales of longing flowing
Away from what we know is true and towards the pleasing
Fantasy where we love one another and follow the golden rule
On and on and on until it runs out of inches
And we wonder where it went into the belly of obscurity
Missing that easy stage so much
Now we travel through unknown passageways and we're hurt
But we won't show it we are strong we are good we are full
And happy and Surge-bright until
The caffeine wears off and we find ourselves crying
And arguing endlessly between us on the nature of right and wrong
O!We know the truth deep down
We feel the Truth We breathe the Truth We own the Truth
But the truth is and arrow and it pricks like pineapples
Tender sweet flesh inside but it hurts! And we hate it--we despise it for being so
And we question we wonder we TRUST
And we are terrified and we don't know what we're doing
Groping about the darkness. What happened to
This little light of mine?
I think I hid it under a bushel.
No!



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