How am i strong
When I’m still submitting to weaknesses?
Brushing away the nagging feeling
That things are not alright
That they can be better
But it’s in my hands.
How am I stronger
When I still am not able
To make the right
And cut my losses
To shape my life
The way it should be?
The way i so want it to be…
The ants continue to swarm
colluding, confiding
in whatever it is that’s rotting.
Something still awaits to
announce itself
its stench is lost to me.
Do they know of their doom?
of the broom that looms?
their scattered demise in one fall swoop?
A fatal brush,
A bristled death.
I look away
let them crawl away
let their beady bodies
cluster in writhing clues.
intotheindigo 