Flow

I don’t know if I’ve found redemption
I’m not sure words like that are meant for
Women like me
But see I’ve got a penchant
For disaster and boy
You taste like sweet clarity

Cuz when I’m with you I can feel the cement
Of these walls I’m trying to conquer
To call home- knuckles bloody and bruised
Fingers sore and maybe I aught have
Opened my eyes and walked toward the door

You’re telling me to love being water
That the path of least resistance isn’t always wrong
and strength doesn’t have to be writ with broken bones

–G.A. Buba

Undretal, Norway stream flowing into the Aurlandsfjord (C) G.A. Buba

Sorry for the long absence- classes hit like a sledge hammer, will try to keep up with posting