My Hand Slipped...

A Poem by Madison Grace

I’m spilling out in the wrong directions
trying to carry the flow of my bleeding person
into a wanted affliction�"

But the sands of my soul are usurped by the winds of fate.
Still… I cannot move,my motivation glued to this post that I am drowning on.

My life is a weed;
that spreads out among the fields of this land
my thorns pricking the lives I touch,
drawing blood so that i may breath in deep their pith.

I’m lost now,
The weeds growing into a maze all around.
And as the labyrinth consumes the light from above
I take in the soothing elixir of sweet perfume
as my final match extinguishes and I hope to forget my troubles
one breath at a time.