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Debbie Lydon Sep 2021
We all have something singularly unsayable within. Nothing can or will ever get to it, not even other souls. This is the loneliness we were all born with and this is our only salvation.
It is within you and me and you write a wrong in life's pages when you abandon it.
Debbie Lydon Nov 2020
My innermost has been missing me,
I must get back to it,
Lately, I've been a half moon, see,
a half moon and that's it.

There's a clumsiness beneath my cerebral cortex,
A hazy and haphazard thought,
My cranuim is marrying the confused with the complex,
And so my thinking amounts to nought.

Where am I in my deafening debris?
I'm not entirely lost,
Just feeling far away from lucidity and me,
But my innermost will cover the cost.
Feeling like a stranger to yourself can be scary. Back to introspection.
In the innermost chamber of the heart,
is a room where the intellect can be quiet and rest.
Here, these two old friends are on equal footing.

Neither struggles for the upper hand.
They have often smiled at each other across
the heavy wooden table placed between them.

Leaning in, they talk about your day.
"Did you feel that moment when we stood
shoulder to shoulder, and she felt it?"

Like some windless river in an ancient city,
where both shores are made of good grey granite,
they feel everything you feel, and gently stand their ground.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
TSK Nov 2014
The problem, I realize,
Is that the way
I protect myself
From the innermost pain
Is the same way
I protect myself
From the innermost pleasure.

— The End —