ellis emmy schirmer
have patience with me. I'll get there.
Saturday, 13 February 2010
and for once, again.
I feel slightly trapped,
no iron wrought bars that surround me,
but a tight grip on my wrist,
a tight grip on my hair.
My eyes close,
five fingers and a sweaty palm enclose over my mouth.
my breathing stops,
I feel utterly serene.
Panic and nature push me to gasp,
fill these happy balloons with air.
I watch the balloons float up,
up into the early night sky.
And for once, I feel truly peaceful, again.
poem emmy mirror