Latoya Scranton Poems

I was shaped from the shapeless.
Formed from the formless.
Created by the ultimate creationist. who made everything. Who made nothing. All at once and on purpose but by doing nothing. But by doing everything.
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Past, past, past
Always haunting the present.
At a stand still on an always revolving planet.
Engulfed in your ignorance
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Does she think she's perfect? What is the point she's trying to make? I think that she is angry at everything. I am affected by her and she is affected by me to.

I wish that I could love her but she doesn't want to be loved. She wants excitement and fun! I can be fun? Not her kind of fun I guess. Maybe If SHE were sweeter I would love her more.
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One day I shall embrace my fears. I will feel the weight of anger, pain, need, and anxiety release from me, not into the sky, but into the great open space of clarity.

I will feel my feet relinquish its job of taking me here and there and back again for some un-edifying but required task. They shall release me into a canyon of acceptance and rebirth.
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