The deeper the veins of a silent rising fountainhead reach, awaking a muse more chilling than the truth in the blood ― a cold stillness stirs that lets me feel an unheeded sigh cast in the wind
A breathe of words from a sudden burst of silence, tossed like a handful of dust lost in a rush of wind ― a beclouded murmur fleeted; holding your breath as the aching passion manifest, no longer containable
I really wonder if you even know or care who's behind the dark cracked glass ― you learn to live with what’s broken to survive... learning to look in the eyes of a dark horse in a tight-lipped mirror, to hear what’s pushed back down unswallowed
Staring down the muted throat of the voiceless; feeling the anxiety of held breath, turning blue afraid to exhale
If you look at these words and remember there was nothing left to lose, then you'll see the meaning ―
I don't need to hear you tell me to re-lock all the doors I wish I never opened; knowing there are still moments when it leaks out of my silence
Someday, at first light, a songbird hearkens the morning dew's passage; I’ll take heed a song of deliverance and rise up from bended knees ...
but right now I’m still learning how to live alone
Jesse e Stillwater
02 May 2018 ................................................................
Note to readers: Thanks a lot for reading the things I've shared publicly the past few months. Many comments I shared intended to support others' work, fell to silence, so my apologies if I ****** you off not knowing the unpublished site map. Its hard to know here; perplexing when you're just a simple unknown trying to just be. For now I'm just going back to being more of a reserved reader until I've got a better idea of which way the wind blows...