elliot r. wolfson
aboutpaintingspoetryscholarship

on one foot dancing

< previous index of poems next >


hope


i would myself kill
if i were not already dead
laid to rest by an excess
craving not to be who i am
strangely familiar
beneath blanket of shame
uncovering shell to recover core
rotted by promises unfulfilled
wishing i were not dead
so that i might myself kill
i remain



back to home