Sorrow
Ungodly Hour: The Fray

Time stained envelopes
Flour dusted hands
Thin socks, scarves
Light bags, heavy hearts.

The letters came and
were returned. Life in ink,
beauty in paper, people
in words. I miss them.

To do things, and fill cravings,
I bake: lemon pound cake,
brownies, batches of cookies.
They stale on the counter.

My clothing and spirit thin.
Wearing the uniform, following
routine, wears down my soles:
wears down my soul.

My suitcase sits empty,
future journals empty. The strings
of my heart are pulled tight,
stuffed with decaying futures.

Pretend you didn't know what this was kind of about. Assume it came out of my brain because i'm listening to a beautiful, sorrowful piece of mastery by the fray, and not because i'm anxious, or awaiting letters. : - )

BTW, i emailed the fantastic anna king, and she said that letters were to be mailed first week of april. so we can relax a bit, for now. : - )

emilea

her bag is not much heavier, i wish that i could carry her, but this our ungodly hour.

wait for the ekphrastic edit

It will come. But for now, poll in the sidebar. I want cash. haha. No, I do, but I really just want to win anyway, even if the prize wasn't cash. =)