April 18, 2018

fragment



i have known rageful men
and bottled up women
who live with them,
and sometimes
die of it
years later---
a long death,
a death by inches.

i have know such women
suddenly soar free,
spirits bright as sparks,
offering their old lives
to the flames of a new day.

myself,
i keep my heart in a jar
these days,
the jar in a box
the box in a cupboard
that locks, in a house
abandoned on a mountain-top
at the ends of the earth...

i'll not be a moth
beating against a lighted pane
coveting a cold comfort flame
flickering deceitfully
in those houses,
anything but safe
no matter what they say.










5 comments:

  1. This poem.

    I wish I knew some women who have soared free. Is it possible, I wonder?

    ReplyDelete
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    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    2. it IS possible, it is... it's just REALLY hard, mostly!

      Delete

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