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Hers…

You grind out the words
They cut the page like wind sharpened slices of breezes
Screaming for release
Crying for completion
Despairing in loneliness of heart, soul, mind and time

You split open the wounds of yesteryear
Still festered and bleeding in your inner sanctuary
Stabbing at the pain like its a life and death apocalypse
Only love staying your hand in the end
From a fruitless battle wrestled for a lifetime

You step into the passion which guides you in lucid moments
Praying she will join you
Praying to whom?
Any universal energy willing to listen
And you beg your knees bloody for one heart to walk forward, take your hand, and seal forever

The page turns, rhythms change, your life hangs in the balance
All you know boils down to hope, peace, companion. Love.
Yet your love falls in a stampede of conflicting noises
Noises of lifetimes of abuse, neglect, heartless attack, disparaging phrases
That serve only to drive you mad, back to your sanctuary

Again, you grind out words in silken melodies
Squeezed from a heart that knows forever
That sings for her hand
That caresses the harsh winds of time
Only to fall on grasses thick with sadness, unheard, unbelieved, broken

Until the midnight air surrounds you
Lifts your eyes to the stars
Where dreams melt like surreal chocolate
Into the sweetest sleep you could ever know
She awaits you there, soft, kind, gentle, loving

And you smile for the minute respite
Knowing waking eyes bring only the same absence
The same loss
The same war
But for now, she is real, she is yours, and most importantly, you are hers…

 

This evening’s poem stepped out of a need to write “over the top.” Why? Because I’m powering up to kick my next book into gear and I wanted to see if I could still take emotion, jack it up, and run with it. The poem may make no sense to anyone but me. I would hope otherwise, yet I do realize many things happen alone, in my own little mind.

I desire to take my next book to another level of writing, one I feel destined to write, but also inadequate to the task. When have I ever allowed anything like that to restrain my writing? LOL! Far too many times! But not now. Not here, in this time, in this space, where I’ve come to know more of who I am.

So, is the poem a loss? Or a keeper? Let me know. Feel free to comment. I can take it…I think…LOL!!! Yeah, I can

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