Quarter Life Blues in Solitude
(Wind, Won’t You Blow Me Away?)
Tiffany Moton
wind, won’t you blow me away
from this holy mess, this rat’s nest
bed of filth and biting guilt
in which i lay
under wrinkled covers stained
in hours cried and tears dried
bust in and bare my paper skin
i beg you wind, blow me away
rustle the stale air heavy
with despair
before it crushes me for good
whichever way you choose to blow
that’s where i’ll go
mercurial breeze i’m down here
on my knees, please
don’t leave me behind, i’m sick
with a disease of the mind
that strangles my soul, enervates me
drains me to a mere vacancy within
a wreck of a body
delicate to touch, caution:
may collapse to dust if loved
too much
better left to croon
the quarter life blues in solitude
until i hear the whistle of your wings
one day
wind, won’t you blow me away?
