I am woefully behind on my NaPoWriMo posts and am trying to catch up but I liked today’s prompt and was already working on something that would fit.

Thrust back into the concrete jungle
my nerves are inundated by the cult of busy.
It all seems so unnecessary and
everything is strangely offensive.
How long before it all feels familiar again?
How long before I feel a part of the machinery
and apart from my place of origin?
In this moment, that connection feels urgent
and nourishing, a matter of life and death.
But over and over again, the cord must be cut.
Over and over again, farewells must be dispensed:
one, then two, then all at once they spill
from the bottle of my heart.
Goodbye my love, adieu.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s