~Swaggered and Emotional~

Awakening to a new you...

Why must I always play the fiddlers drum, stoop, bow, tilt, succumb. Tote the hay, milk the prey, all while keeping the wolves at bay.

Why must I always thread the needle, stitch the seams, aren't I allowed to have any dreams, hopes beyond the norm of things?
is there a funnel for my vision of streams, a place where I can rest upon my inward imaginings?

My heart is over rot with emotional grit, I'm sick of this morose shit,
I hurt your feeling oh my, now you understand why tears don't move me, my tears have elevated beyond the realm of acceptability.

That's blood in the rain, I've weathered the storm, rekindled my flame, torn
off my emotional chains, flourished beyond my own subliminal pain.

I've become like polished brass, my emotional configuration was built
to last, sometimes I find it somewhat strange, but then of course my
cerebral cortex is completely out of your range, and yes its true,
I get a kick out of poking at you.

(©)copyright:2017-KarenRussell (Literature Only)