Returning

Save me from this world
I scream
And do not get breath in return
I hammer my fists in the reflection and it’s idle
And mirrors myself into unrecognizable
In the broken glass of tears in front of me
The trumpet knots its sound in me
Therefore I shrink
Stop getting lost
The choir shout
I do not profess myself to anything but
The knotting sound of the trumpet in my mind
I turn my back to the choir
Show them my scares
The ones I have turned away from
I don’t know they still are there
But they are
They bleed me into callousness
And sooner or later the tones do not match
Only my leaning forwards and backwards
Form an unknown rhythm
Which I always will remember
This for
Like the day, this day, today
Where I take the trumpet on my back
And migrate in my lonely and fully manned march
I walk up against the mountain in one heaven
My heaven, return home
Cause there is no more to wait for
No more repetition
I return home

© copyright 2009 Louise Anchor

by Louise Anchor

Comments (1)

sweet poem, forget him move girl