Emily Rae Robles

the paradoxymoron


the rain in my eyes feels like tears on my face,
dripping into the cracks in the sidewalk.
I follow them to the edge of my tiny universe
and cry to the enclosing horizon.
“Why?” is not what I say
but only what I think
as I fall on my face and smell the damp life of the dirt
for there is only dirt at the end of my universe,
no oceans,
just dirt
filled with the life of a million tiny creatures
whose universes are even smaller then mine,
yet bigger in their innocence.

I ate an apple yesterday
and threw away the core,
knowing that I wasn’t really throwing it away
but giving it back to the land that birthed it.
I wonder if it feels used
or thankful
or fulfilled.

in the midst of my nothingness,
I feel a pang of uncertainty
and it comforts me,
knowing that my soul is not dead.


March 8, 2011 - Posted by | poetry, writings

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