steel

3/10/15

"Love doesn't exist," she said,
heart shrouded, and stained.
He looked into her eyes, asked,
"Why are you afraid?"
No answer from her lips;
she's frozen, can't stand.
Strings move her toward something,
knows not what's in hand.
Drowning in memories
that seem best left forgot,
sometimes she wishes
she could jump off the dock.
She fumbles and bumbles,
doesn't know why she strives.
Her heart keeps on bleeding
welling up deep inside.
Will someone come fix her?
Drag her toward the shore?
It's certain she'll have to
let the tide clean her sores.
He's standing right there
screaming out, "Help is here!"
But she's deaf to his efforts;
she's too riddled with fear.
There are some things that
time cannot begin to heal;
the damage, the suffering
cover her heart in thick steel.
Only time can begin
to even think to erase,
to close up those old wounds,
restore heart with grace.

I know, I know I know.

Lately I feel this sense of loss;
I question by what it has been caused.

A strange emptiness is in my chest,
it leaves me feeling lost, and stressed.
Those I know, I know I know,
seem lost within some undertow.

This sense of distance pervades my sight,
leaves me feeling confused and blind.
I know, I know I know their face,
for I can smell them, I can taste.

Some hollow feeling fills me through,
and leaves my heart rusty and blue.
I know, I know I know their heart,
upon my soul it should be scarred.

But something keeps me from reaching out,
from knowing exactly whom I am without.

building blocks

There's been something missing from
the words I mean to leave my tongue.
I can't say what I mean to say;
perhaps it's 'cause I am afraid.
Afraid of what, I am not sure.
That's something that I must explore:
Fear of rejection? Fear of loss?
Worry that I'll just be tossed?
Unsure of whether I'll be heard,
or maybe that I'll make you bored.
Logically I know that's false,
but in my head there is a brawl
between the conscious and the Id;
that primitive piece I hold within.
When I sit down just to think,
I know I must connect these things,
to find an answer, find some truth!
Really, what is there to lose?
The only thing I have's to grow,
find within myself what's still unknown.
The building blocks that make me whole,
I'll stack patiently, each one by one.

Roots

I want to lay awake outside
naked
in the rain.

Let the cool ticks of water
occupy my brain.

Something strange within me
stirs
deep in the psyche.

A question of unending trust;
a shimmer in a dream.

A brisk and cleansing rush
consumes
that which would impose.

Interpretation is the flaw
shrouding lovers' prose.

A strike of light illuminates
exposes
what's unknown.

Thunder crashes in the heart
a hollow, empty drum.

A storm cannot awaken
longing
of something gone unmissed.

Roots must first be firmly placed
to benefit this tryst.