Bad Faith

Bad Faith

Sometimes I wish

that the breath

would leave,

my body.

 

Surrounded by

quiet contemplation,

I have discovered

trepidation;

wilting,

in the palms

of my hands.

 

And as the wind

ruffles my skirt,

I squint,

through cheap

sunglasses,

at my reflection

in a dirty birdbath.

 

Smiling,

at the burning end

of my cigarette.

 

Living

by no choice,

of my own.

 

Yet taking the steps

to ready the page,

asking questions

and not wanting

the answers,

I was born

in a pond upstream.

 

Fighting;

a representation

of bad faith.

Reviews

[ABitBrokenPoetry]

very intriuging. i like the reflective way its written & good flow. an amazing piece.