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Justine Zingg Poem
They keep following me, the
misty, bright , blind-me
painful lights that burn through my tender,
swollen heart. I run and I run
but I never get away, my torn
bleeding wings never stop.
and my head twists and nods with every
slow move I make, I run as fast as
I can, but the thirstiness on my pillow
and my faceinthesky winks through my cloudy
smoggy atmosphere, and I scream
for some comfort, my running shoes become steady,
but my legs don't work
like they are supposed to, and I end up
arriving on time
to the wrong place.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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Justine Zingg Poem
Starlight, star fight
I hope no one cries tonight
I hope that life
is more than the sun
and more than that book I read
about the horses,
more than the dirt on the floor,
sitting there like a
fairy dust covers a flower.
The flower blows in the wind
and I weep
for the day that comes when
life no longer
has an end
or really a beginning.
This jacket is itchy
and I itch it like my mind
hurts, it hurts when I think of
how sick I am of
running away from
the life that is coming
to me.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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Justine Zingg Poem
The sand on the beaches are shining
Red and yellow, in the shadows
Of the trees it is cool and you will not
Get sunburnt. But the soul is burning,
And the air is so thick, it is like breathing in
tar, you are constantly talking
In a whisper.
The mind, although awake, is very black
And dark;
One could not see one's way around.
And since it is this way
In my world,
I am constantly picking pieces of me
Off the floor, and glueing them
Back together in my spare time.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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Justine Zingg Poem
The snow outside is like fallen leaves,
dead and lifeless,
And also pretty. I wonder sometimes
when I look at our
long, crooked road
outside the house, it curves
and turns like the spine
Of an old snake.
it laughs with the wind
and cries with the rain
like I do,
it carries us when we are picking flowers
along the side,
we use it as our personal guide
when I used to walk
My dog.
The color of it: milk chocolate with a
bright yellow stripe
reminds me of the color
when it wasn't paved,
I would walk across it barefoot
and feel the hard gravel and soft sand
between my toes
and not be afraid of the red ants
that would sometimes make homes
Around there.
the road to me is like a living time line
I have walked and rode on every inch
and I still don't remember
all of it, because there
is so much I have been through
and so much I haven't.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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Justine Zingg Poem
I only think about my future
right before I go to sleep at night,
when all the spirits wait to feed on my
venerable, weak mind
that gets ripped to shreds
in a moment I once thought to be peace
could turn to chaos in less than a second.
one minute I will be having the time of my life,
and later it could be the end of the world,
all because I feel so alone
with everyone around.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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Justine Zingg Poem
The smell of smoke
Reminds me of my mother's eyes;
They are dry and hard,
And rain red all day long.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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Justine Zingg Poem
I miss the way you looked at me,
That one time in the store;
Your eyes were the color of dirt
After you spit in it-
The color of chocolate,
Melted on a gray coffee table.
Your socks were wrinkled that day,
They reflected your smile,
Dry and cold, wet in the corners,
Your lips looked as though they were sunburnt.
That day I hugged you a lot,
I was afraid you would slip away.
Your eyes were like my stars at night,
Bright and innocent,
And beautiful to look at for long amounts of time.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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Justine Zingg Poem
You will not die,
you will
not go away.
You sat the poison on
the table,
I saw it
with wet eyes, damp
cheeks. I wish
I could breath lavender
air, so that
life would leave me alone
I wish that you
would burn out.
Go away my mental
pain,
my black memories.
My broken rainbow, lost
in the fog
can see you in
the distance.
Never will you go away
because
scars never heal.
Copyright © Justine Zingg | Year Posted 2006
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