The price of free

15 June, 2009

rose-breasted grosbeak

you proudly tell me of the worth of your wit,
but words are cheap, my old friend, and so are you.

There comes a time in every young man’s life when he contemplates the future without that pretty little bit of now, and he thinks, I will do whatever it takes, I will be whoever she needs, I cannot face the lonely without her, no matter how she may nag me. And then, he proposes.

You can tell yourself you’re above and over tradition, but we both know you’d buy her a ring so large she couldn’t lift her hand, if you could. Instead you cover her ring finger in words made of dreams, of sweet honeyed tobacco and trinkets of ink, but not on your skin,
no,
the words written there are your permanent chain mail, and you’re too scared to wear her there, or, you’re too honest.

Advertisements

2 Responses to “The price of free”

  1. Melinda Says:

    wow.
    vivid. true.
    very nicely done.

  2. GAP Says:

    🙂 Very well written..


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: