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Tag Archives: memories

Standing
Posing
Looking out, perched on the corner
of Shuter and Parliament… above Queen Street
looking for somewhere to go

I’m on a quest for
something
but I can’t tell you what I’m looking for

***

Sometimes big puffs of black smoke will
come along,
I always think my first heartache is the driver;
it takes me a sea of molten lava constructed in under 36 seconds by the
holding of my breath to not run
out into the street, bang on the hood of that car
screaming, “It’s me!! I found you!”

Britta B.

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I cry a lot
More often than I exercise
But this crying is exercise, a release
A good hustle to the top of the bottom of something
a hill or hole
depending on the day and how much strength I have in
confronting my weakness

Although, I am not weak just because I cry
I am most certainly alive
For I can feel the two furthest bits of me, kiss
Pain kissing Peace
Peace killing Pain

Britta B.