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Scavenging My Soul
March 17, 2011
We are scavengers
A dreaming architect
And then a phone call interrupts it all
We’re lost
Maybe I’m rambling
It’s two AM
And my throat is sore
Coated in canker sores,
I’m bleeding from
The mouth and mind
I beg you to pay attention
I claw at you, paw at you
And you listen
But I don’t pay attention back.
I am a scavenger
You are a dreaming architect
Hoping to build me
From the ashes of who I was.
© Charlotte M., Naples, FL
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