Pour Lungs


My early charged with late grounds

My stilts still aching

Long awaited

This day

Red hair reflecting

Sparks my interest

Half eye contact seem too revealing

Caught up in the light

Of my transparent abuse of direction

Always finding self

Outlet passing

And reminiscent past
Doubtful in my youthful attributes

This new found respect

Weighs on the ease of powerfulness

I need voices to conserve my danger

Awakening in dry fertility

This day