Anita Magdalena

Anita Magdalena

Friday, 15 November 2013

Frozen Lips.

I used to think your hands were beautiful
the way they curled around my celibate years
waking the dormant hollows in my institution
finding me in the dark corner of my hideout

you blew on me in dandelion escapes and smiles
I fell hard into your attentions with reckless abandon
crashed on the other side of what I didn't see coming
I had to catch myself before the ground hit me
harder than ten rounds with my incessant defiance

It rained heavy on the backbone of my pride
I guess I lost count of how many times I kicked myself
my eyes stung all of t

I felt derelict like an abandoned building
where the only sound was the wind howling like sorrow
and the cold held me all of the way to my marrow
your name hangs from my lips like icicles waiting to melt
Written by Anita Magdalena......he way to my throat
and my clenched fists were too heavy for me to lift