Waiting and waiting and waiting again.
Huddled in my nest, cocoon, my den.
Knowing it’s futile
Yet not stopping to breathe.
I continue waiting
To satiate this need.
Waiting
home
so they gazed upon the shore
their hooves of alabaster
freedom in their nostrils breathed
no more would they be mastered.
so they trod across the land
stopping day nor night
until they happened upon the place
to make their home that night.
so they built and toiled much
thus bringing to completion
the home that they would make their lives
their journey at its fruition.
Naked Lunch
Posted on another blog previously. I feel it fits better here.
She surveys the destruction around her without comment. Broken chairs and tables. Bloodied shards of glass strewn about the floor. Her lethal fingernails scrape along the table as she examines the scars in the wood; allowing her finger to trace a deep gouge running [...]
