I am not a Sunday morning inside four wallswith clean bloodand organized drawers.I am the hurricane setting fire to the forestsat night when no one else is aliveor awakehowever you choose to see itand I live in my own flamessometimes burning too bright and too wildto make things lastor handlemyself or anyone elseand so I run.run run runfar and wideuntil my bones ache and lungs splitand it feels good.Hear that people? It feels goodbecause I am the slave and ruler of my own bodyand I wish to do with it exactly as I please
Charlotte Eriksson
ache, alive, alone, awake, blood, body, bright, burn, fire, flames, forest, free, free-will, hurricane, independent, lit-quote, litquote, morning, myself, night, organized, people, poetry, prose, prose-poetry, run, solitude, songwriter, sunday, sunday-morning, the-glass-child, walls, wild