The most important question is:
Do you know me?
You know me mindless, intoxicated,
Stoned in your attic and
Watching TV on your bed until
Exhaustion sets in.
Nearly dead but wholly alive
On a throbbing dance floor at 3AM,
Not ready, not willing to leave.
You know me
Sleeping past noon whenever I can,
Not being able to keep a room clean,
Not being able to cook,
Not being able to be anything
You will hear thunder and remember me
And think: she wanted storms.
You will feel rain on your face
And think: She cried all the goddamned time.
You will see lightning in the sky
And think: She can light me up.
But you never read my face
In the mornings of winter
When the tears are more legible
Than the color of my eyes
Or the color of my fear.
Everyone eventually leaves me
And there are cracks
Through the thick of me
Like the faults of California
For the Scriptic.org prompt exchange this week, Christine at http://trudgingthroughfog.wordpress.comgave me this prompt: Anna Akhmatova wrote: ‘You will hear thunder and remember me, | And think: “she wanted storms.”‘ Tell us more.
I gave Laura at http://ratherthecouch.wordpress.com/this prompt: The ground rushed toward her, and when she met it there was no pain, only the darkness of the end. (Kill your darling.)