Monday, March 30, 2015

Under the Bus

I have tire marks
On my neck
My back
My chest
My arms
My legs
My forehead even
And the bus keeps rolling

I have so many tire marks
On my body that
 I’m beginning to think
 That they’re tattoos
I’ve been rolled over
So many times
 That I can’t feel anything

I’ve been
And the bus keeps rolling

I’ve been thrown under the bus
 So many times,
 That I’m not waiting anymore
I’ve learned
 To throw myself
 Under the bus
And convince myself
That it doesn’t hurt
As much

I’ve been under the bus
So long that
I think this is where
 I belong
And the bus keeps rolling

1 comment:

  1. This is so dark and sad. There are days I feel almost exactly the same. I hope you are feeling more uplifted and happy today. I care. Ruth