Sunday, July 3, 2011

I don't think you can call it poetry, but it's what i've been writing lately

A 20-something year-old with a security blanket would raise eyebrows
A ratty stuffed animal clutched in the arms of a woman dressed in her "sexy sophisticated" work clothes would cause stares

This is the age where you must quiet your own tears
Kiss your own boo boos
And sing yourself to sleep at night

So Ill be my own blankie
Sew myself a cape to be my own hero
Polish up my armor and slay my own dragons

Until I find you
and then,
we can split the work 50/50