Saturday, July 20, 2013

Control

Control

I pull the blanket,
tight to my chin,
safe and controlled,
and dream wild dreams,
safely forgotten.

I zip my zipper,
button my buttons,
cinch my belt,
and start my day
feeling put together.

I survey my desk
papers squared away
pencils lined up,
and feel I have
my work done.

I check my sites,
one by one,
familiar voices,
and reassuring words,
doing the study.

I type my words,
line by line
paragraphs and
pages and chapters,
a story I've told.

All of it
all of it
all of it
all of it
all... of... it.


An illusion,
that can be swept away,
upended and tossed,
jumbled and thrown,
helplessly gone.

I pull my blanket,
to my chin,
safe and warm,
and dream of safety
under my control.




2 comments:

Helen said...

I am really enjoying your poetry ...

Duncan McGeary said...

Thank you, Helen.

I've been thinking I'm just self destroying.

Being myself, mind you. Which is self-destroying...:)