i wanted a tree
friss
You spied at me to pull over.
You wanted me to surrender.
I was waiting too fast, you felt,
so I slammed on the sensitivity
and turned off the arrow.
As I flew outside
I wanted to dismenber the bird
and spot,
spot until I ran to estelle.
And yet I wanted to grow.
I wanted to grow the bush.
I wanted to listen to the soft healthy rocks
cutting into my wealth
and slicing my lamp.
I wanted the table to feel round again.
But you sat in the arrow,
clueless to the persons racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the metamorphism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the metamorphism of my insect
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a red, open reminder
that I still had to develop.
i wanted pain
janet kuypers
You screamed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to stop.
I was driving too fast, you said,
so I slammed on the brakes
and turned off the engine.
As I stepped outside
I wanted to jump out of the car
and run,
run until I lost myself.
And yet I wanted to fall.
I wanted to fall to the ground.
I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks
cutting into my face
and slicing my skin.
I wanted pain to feel good again.
But you sat in the car,
clueless to the thoughts racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the surrealism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the condensation of my breath
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a constant, nagging reminder
that I still had to breathe.
