february poetry, days 10 & 11
(xii) marie antoinette
(or, what I learned from the french revolution)
knowing everything you know
about loneliness
& happiness
& smiling beautifully,
what else
but bravery
could be left in the end?
bonaparte died of heartbreak
as the dauphin before his queen.
(xiii) act 3, scene ii
(or, keep the car running)
and so you find yourself at the water's edge, frozen up shut, and all you can feel is sorry for the fish and cold in your old shoes. you woke up this morning and it felt like a beginning. you cried all the old out, cried your broken heart out, the keys in the ignition knew where to take you so here you are. covered in fog, shivering, shy in your sweater, the world eerie beautiful with its blurred edges and softened lines. this is the view from your old bedroom window. now no where feels like home. how many promises are made in a day to ourselves, how many lies are repeated to keep ourselves sane? how many times did you repeat his name in your head, struggling to make him feel real again? space and time are everything. today is the day the world surrenders denial. today is the day the world opens its clenched fists and says, I never promised you anything.
(or, what I learned from the french revolution)
knowing everything you know
about loneliness
& happiness
& smiling beautifully,
what else
but bravery
could be left in the end?
bonaparte died of heartbreak
as the dauphin before his queen.
(xiii) act 3, scene ii
(or, keep the car running)
and so you find yourself at the water's edge, frozen up shut, and all you can feel is sorry for the fish and cold in your old shoes. you woke up this morning and it felt like a beginning. you cried all the old out, cried your broken heart out, the keys in the ignition knew where to take you so here you are. covered in fog, shivering, shy in your sweater, the world eerie beautiful with its blurred edges and softened lines. this is the view from your old bedroom window. now no where feels like home. how many promises are made in a day to ourselves, how many lies are repeated to keep ourselves sane? how many times did you repeat his name in your head, struggling to make him feel real again? space and time are everything. today is the day the world surrenders denial. today is the day the world opens its clenched fists and says, I never promised you anything.