If stitches were like riches
Then my wishes are quite listless
So no suture for my troubles
I’ll bleed out like gutted fishes
If I’m digging you like ditches
But I’ve used up all my wishes
Then unrequited is my lust
Unreturned are my kisses
If mistaken are my pitches
Like a perfect page of glitches
Or abandoned box of bitches
Or real purpose with no niches
Can somebody say what this is?
If big hits were like misses
Then I guess I found my riches
And I’m not gasping and collapsing
Like a flock of landed fishes.
meekha says:
This, Mr. 8ivins, just might be my favorite. I sat here and read it over 3 or 4 times (while on a conference call, thanks for the distraction).
Each time I read it… Hold on, it’s so good let me read it one more time before finishing my comment……..
Yep, each time I read it it provokes a different thought.
Yep, I LOVE this one. It’s my favorite.
Peace, Love, and Creativity
Meek
nicola says:
stitches.suture….digging ditches….wishes..lust..unreturned…pitches..glitches…
abandoned…niches…misses…gasping…collapsing…
From Hole to Whole
Breathless says:
Very Insightful.
All I can say is…
I see you.
Mirror.
eterne says:
The pain one feels from unrequited love…
all the rage and anguish from rejection and
bewilderment and turmoil of what one could change or do—
what person do i need to become to make them love me.
A very wise person taught me healing comes from first
accepting the pain of the truth…feeling the anger…
discovering your worth…and coming out on the other side loving yourself.
In the grip of darkness that truth seems illusive, but healing does come.
Breathless says:
Well said, Eterne.
Shannon says:
…Kenn…I like…