It cannot go unspoken this time.
Split in twixt, bifurcated,
so one half couldn't recognize the
whole.

Blindfolded by rage, scarred
by the ravages of what if's,
the open metaphor for pain.

Removing myself from the
standards I began to set.
Unrealistic, out of reach,
unattainable.
Blurring my vision, by bended
elbow, making excuses faster than
solutions; sinking slowly without
a branch, only an empty bottle
to adhere to.
The calamity called for peace,
and I've listened.

Her hand innocuous at first,
now radiant, strong, and sensual.
Grasped hold of me,
ripping me up from my rotting moorings.
Providing proof there's
still strength in my devices,
my incentives, in my hopes
lie my dreams.

It will never again go unspoken
through my action, it will be heard
careening off foundations,
piercing eyes, and lancing ears.
Words conversed by glance, and
through touch.

Reformed, refined by the beautiful
touch of the divine.
It will never go unspoken again.
Once broken picked up, and loved
back together.

It will never again be unspoken.
The words, the elegance, the clarity,
it all must be perfect, perfectly annunciated.
In me I've found freedom.
Through you I am once again
welcomed into your kingdom.