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Beth C Callaway Nov 2012
Where I am is somewhere sacred
Where I am is somewhere familiar
Where I am is a place hidden
behind so many recognizable traps
and unmistakable signs
It's a place so predictable
A feeling so sour
So rotten
So old
And I know I'll remember it forever
because I'll always feel the pull

Words are spoken
that are meant to change the course.
Acts reenacted
over sentiments enforced

If love were all to life
then life is mine no more

If wisdom came with age
There'd be nothing left to *****

Offered is a body, emptied
of everything it felt,
Playing one final game
with the meager cards it has been dealt.

A pattern is forming wherein nothing lasts
a hole is growing and consuming all within its path
Whatever I was before
I feel slowly molded anew
Whatever I once hoped for
my dreams now are few
spinning around one desire
one shining, brief embrace -
that lead me to believe in something
that can never be replaced.

All I am is hate.
All I give is pain.
My heart is used to grieving
over nothing
ventured or gained

whatever words i speak
whatever emotions flood my soul
it's nothingness that fills the ears
and mystifies the goal

you won't understand
whoever you are
these words aren't for you
or anyone at all
these words are simply full
of an empty, futile wish
i want to know there's meaning
i want to know there's life
beyond all the pointlessness
beyond the sharpest knife

so say what you will
say nothing at all
say you saw it coming
say you know it all
say you never loved me
say you never will
so that i can let go
and find peace in growing still

there was love, at once
true and false
there was happiness
that belied any loss

The part of me that hopes
The part of me that dies
The part disgusted by my treachery
and pathetic, selfish lies
The part of me that's hurt
The part of me that grows
Won't be satisfied by words alone
Nor his impassioned throes

It's a choice I alone must make
to sever bitter bonds
that hold me to a life so
ignorant, and memories long gone.

The change I could make today
So simple, so I've heard,
requires only mindfulness
and breaking from the herd

To become a ripple in the pond
a leaf
upon the fruited tree
so that when last breath I draw
the farthest thought will be of "me".
Beth C Callaway Aug 2010
No, I can’t explain the way it feels.
I can point a finger at myself and say
This is why. This is how.
This is what I’ve done.
But I’ve held my breath and kept
My thinking tethered to dreams
Scattered along the floor like
Petals from a wilting rose.
who can speak of judgment
who knows what I deserve
save myself
save myself
knowing all and forgetting nothing

I’ve run from the sounds of
my own footfall, desperate and lost,
my edges blurred against the grand
backdrop, this complex and static stage
on which I tiptoe
whispering my lines

I’ve written words that will
never swim across the twin
green galaxies for which they were
destined. Instead they sink below
the sea and soon nothing will remain
save myself
save myself
Beth C Callaway Aug 2010
I once could hear a voice calling
loudly in my ears and
through my mind.
I ignored it
for so long that now
I hear it rarely
and only faintly
like the echo off some
distant mountain pass
and not the reverberations
of my own heart.

— The End —