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Body Of Bad Decisions

Body Of Bad Decisions

Tires settle around me
all the wasteful instant gratifications pile up
The gravity of lovers not had
sag my breasts on to the shelf of my middling life

My feet are swollen with paths not trod
my arms are flabby with trials not lifted
thighs burbled with loneliness
fingers stiff with words not committed

My brain
Oh my brain is soft with ignored learning

Stagnant decades an atrium of actions never pledged
Puckered skin a gallery of regrets never painted
Each wrinkle a symphony of sins never performed

I carry with me always
a body of bad decisions
which will never drop me

Tressa Lee Breen
October 22, 2013

Dying Time

Dying Time

In a life well spent
age should be worn like Autumn
reds for shades of love shared
oranges for degrees of delight
yellows for grades of gratitude
both given and received
losses bared in browns
and successes shining in golds

In a life well spent
wrinkles should be worn like colors
earned with the work of thoughtfully dropped acorns
and although the cycle is almost complete
there would be no dread of Winter

Those with barren seasons
fear the Fall
they clutch every faded leaf and rotting seed
hoping to bring back Spring
and stall time in eternal Summer

Those with barren seasons
bark at the unblameable wind
and lash out at the optimistic 
over branches they themselves have not gone out on
until even loved ones want to swing the axe

Tressa Lee Breen
October 22, 2013