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