Clouds Left Me With Sylvia

Sylvia Path
1932-1963

Dead Grass

It is agony to feel irrelevant. 
I wonder if the earth swallowed me
 anyone would worry I was gone
or be more concerned about
why the grass won’t grow any more. 


Walking Dead

The sun on my arms feels lonely.
As much as I hunger for light
my spirit has grown too comfortable with shadows.
I’m the walking dead, a candle without a match.

Blind Paper

I beg ink for something to say.
The blind eye of white paper
frightens me.


So Many Crossroads

I took a long walk out of my mind.
Insanity had so many crossroads
I could never find my way back to me.


©Susie Clevenger 2024




 

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