Poems from rebeccakinsler
They say not to question God, for His ways are beyond our own.
It was a Sunday morning, watching the sweat pour from my father's face as he...
The mother holds me up to the mountains, let's down my hair.
She asks me how it feels to be alive.
I tell her that it's quite strange, ...
You're the thorns imbedding into my fingertips
"Why are you bleeding?"
You're the noose that's pulling around my neck
"Why are you choking...
Neon lights buzzing on a street corner
Luminescent, highlighted hellos shining as bright as the stars in my head.
Side magicians gambling...
My mind is tormented.
All of life is a stretch of decisions but my childish ways do not constitute any rightful wisdom.
And so here I lay...