Posts tagged "triumph" — Page 4
Everything
I saw her scar today,
a prideful star basking in its curtain raising.
(Her black blouse had slipped too low.)
I knew about the cancer, she had told me.
I don’t know why I am surprised by that flash of flesh,
that red reminder of…everything!
I am not a mother. I have no mother.
I don’t want to stay here.
My interpretation of everything, tired refrain.
Last Words
Some accuse me of morbidity, their assertion supported by a scaffold of dark twigs; my fondness for cemeteries and storms, my ubiquitous clothing choice in the color without color, my reliance upon heavy literature, my collection of dying words. I wish that I might lend them my lens, an owl bestowing her nighttime sight to the worshippers of the sun, that they might see beyond the limits of labels to the radiant core of all—Beauty.
Who is it? Who is it?
~Billy the Kid
Does nobody understand?
~James Joyce
The sadness will last forever.
~Vincent van Gogh
Afterthought
A motley of Yule paper promises lay rent in revelation, a fraction of their former wrapped dignity preserved by the stubbornness of iridescent bows that remained dutifully attached. My family lounged content as cats, their desires full from their holiday haul (a fullness their bellies were soon to replicate), while the aesthete in me cringed at the plight of the mutilated wrapping papers, torn to shreds as if by a school of piranhas. As I lamented the long hours spent in the perfection of pretty presentation, I wondered, “Is it worth it?”
A Tale of Two Sweatshirts
A TINY HORROR STORY:
MONDAY.
I saw that sardonic sentiment emblazoned in white upon a pepper black sweatshirt and I wanted it. I wanted it, the real me whose face is not sutured with a counterfeit smile, the real me who is not an innocuous gnat, the real me whose veins course as thrill-filled tributaries to a heart that delights in this tiny rebellion. And so I bought it. And I wore it. And people noticed.