JAMARTLONDON - jenny (jennifer) meehan

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I watched him try to de-ice the car.


Behind him, I saw a broken bus shelter.


I sought it, for my own house was falling –


as quickly as the snow.




He was not looking at me


so quietly, I slipped past –


light upon my numb feet –


spirit, shifting, slightly


within my tatty soul.




The safety glass, a shimmering lake –


grey concrete shone with flickering highlights –


touched with warmest sunlight.






It is beautiful in its broken state –


I weep – because of the thought of its release;


In one angry fistful of fired up rage,


someone has made this a place for me.


I have only hot tears.




I stand, unclothed,


with tiny diamonds sparkling


between my toes.




No single image appears -


on my knees, I search with intent;


drop my cold face, hard


into the glassy earth which presses flesh grievously.




cry –   that I may grow


wish – for spikes piercing my eyes, because I do not want to see


crave – for red tears, mingling within white and glinting surfaces


want – soft, pink, blossom, to open up inside.




I pray to God;


dissolve the glass –


and heal me.




Jenny Meehan copyright 2008







"Scraper"  Charcoal Drawing by Jenny Meehan