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I'm Not God
September 28, 2013
There’s a tiredness
Which flutters, finicky in my chest
It’s a mixture of slumped shoulders and good riddance
Like when the dirty clothes and the dirty wash towels
Are scattered across the floor and I can’t find the right dress
Or even a pair of matching socks
So I sit in the middle of those shifting un-solid mountains
And I shove them aside like God does on his weekends
But I’m not God
No
I’m just a clumsy dreamer
Who doesn’t know where her dreams have wandered
And who tumbles
Tumbles down with all the shifting un-solid mountains.
© Nicole J., St. Louis, MO
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