Jen Juice

Rendering phone calls of
The only said difference
Between the bed sheets
And my new found(ed) existence
Of how the suitcase
Lives with a marker and me in it

Saw between the both
And far and the few between – me
And the you I can’t seem
To get in and through to

Like the imperfect little
Glass vase I use
As my front door
The sot and
The best reasons why
I can’t do this any more

Life as a Suitcase of emotion
And you as my front door….

This entry was posted on March 22, 2011 at 5:05 PM and is filed under Jencerpts.. with tags Poetry, raw. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.