Thursday, September 21, 2006

Concrete

Sometimes it feels
like you are concrete
pouring over me,
solidifying,
and trying to hold me back
from living.

I keep breaking through
but the pressure,
the weight of your words
is breaking my branches,
wilting my petals,
and drowning my roots.

I ask you to stop
at least take a break
so I can breath a moment.
But you aren't listening,
you are trapped inside
your necessary fictions.