To Cook My Head
it was hot
makes you feel spent just breathin'
but she was comfortable as judas in hades
just like ice cool in the shade
you shout and dance about with all this jealousy
you are electric hot under the collar
but the winds are blowing in her favor
but the rivers are sweet on her lips
it was hot as death warmed over
not an ounce of inked shade to be had
and you got issues hounding your thoughts
beginning to feel like its a church to the
apostle's of rage
darken your horizons with her
like the universe is her little game
the wind walks its ignorant gesture across you
and that just fans the flames
after all she just acknowledged her divinity
its hot enough to cook my head
but you are wrapped tighter than a prisoner
all used up and jealous
key to surviving this day lay in her eyes
in them you see your forgiven soul
in them you see your salvation's way
if you can forgive yourself first
if you can grow that fast
Copyright © Mark Junor | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment