Wednesday, May 4, 2011

turning medusa

before, I was hopeful
full of nerves and poetry
your laugh made me wish
I was funnier than I am
your words drew me in
fueling yearning, spinning tales

up close you were smaller
yet you spoke of large dreams
and the man you might become
confused, I opened myself wide
and you took out your pleasure
leaving only consequences
leaving me with old tears
and a swelling rage

when fathers and husbands
rape and curse and injure
when brothers abandon
their faith and their sisters
who am I to offer all
my fire and my weakness?

when love is danger
and trust is ruin
what can I turn to
but to stone?

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