I’m Tired of this.
I Don’t want to Do dishes anymore. I want to eat off paper plates in front of a crackling Fire…
No more cleaning, I want to sweep dirt from my Teepee with a straw broom.
Don’t want stupid negative redundant Inane words…
Want to write Poetry and Books while my lover brushes my hair.
Over Giving to you what You would Never think to give to me.
Sick of living Here. Deep in a cave is where I’d rather be, making Love on skins and cotton.
Or maybe in a mountain River, cold, hot, Real.
~ © Jazzi Ryan Ranes ~