Roil, roil, scratch and toil,
Dig in deep and turn up soil.
Try, try, scratch and cry,
Dig in flesh and make blood fly.
Want, want, scratch and haunt,
Dig in soul and make cheeks gaunt.
Free, free, scratch and flee,
Dig in deep and turn up “Me.”
i like the stream of consciousness, panicked but calm and very real for somebody who would feel like that.
Thank you :).
I love your poetry, Ilana. It’s got great rhyme and rhythm and it always says something meaningful.
This is a really . . . gutsy piece? Visceral? Is that the word I’m looking for? It’s very powerful.
Aw, thank you, Erin – really, it means a lot to me.