Hunger

For the Faint of Heart?

What do you mean,

Not for the weak of heart?

You can’t just say it, you’ve

Got to make me be brave

Make me want to stop

Make me look back uncertainly.

You’ve got to pull the rug out from

Under me, show me

That what I thought was true

Is not, what I took for granted

Can be taken.  For nothing.

“Not for the weak of heart” my ass.

Your shit doesn’t look in the mirror and

become startled, you don’t frighten

yourself–you

Never have, you’re

No closer to knowing you

bolted the door to your flowing you

lock it up tight at night so you

won’t have to fight with your

weak heart to make art you

Warn us with your faint

fucking heart.

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This entry was published on August 31, 2012 at 21:00. It’s filed under Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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