Wednesday, December 1, 2010

December Lives

'The more I search, the less I find. The more I look, the more I'm blind.'

If it were easy it would be some old ancestral melody no young pink-skinned girl had to work for. If it were easy it would not be me, my head, my heart, my song, my head, my heart, my song, my head, my heart, my head, my heart, it would not be me if it were easy.

If it were easy it would not be winter. Where am I?

I am weak because it is not easy. I am weak and so I reach. I reach for him. I press myself into him. I feel anchored by his weight. It helps me know where I am.

If it were easy it would not be me, my head, my heart, my song, my head, my heart, my song, my head, my heart, my head, my heart, it would not be me if it were easy.

I was doing well once, I was fine then. Where am I?

I am lost because it is not easy. I only want to find me. I reach for me. I grapple for evasively slipping me. I feel like a sky-bound balloon. It blows fear into my bones.

If it were easy it would not be me, my head, my heart, my song, my head, my heart, my song, my head, my heart, my head, my heart, it would not be me if it were easy.

It is the season now of retreat. Where am I?

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