The force beneath my hair,
behind my neck,
pressing me into places
of wretched beauty
fighting me when I don’t know
where I’m supposed to go
why, oh how, oh when
will the wind let me breathe
without force?
I stand as firmly as time.
The force beneath my hair,
behind my neck,
pressing me into places
of wretched beauty
fighting me when I don’t know
where I’m supposed to go
why, oh how, oh when
will the wind let me breathe
without force?
I stand as firmly as time.
The Word Rummager 
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