and I'm certain that there are things that I'll always be uncertain of. The need to let you go, the surge to feel your words wash over me,
and I'm certain that there are things that I'll never tire of. To gaze at the moon late at night, the [soothing] effect I experience while reading your words,
and my mind, which thinks up ways
on how to irk you, little by little ...
I walk breathless,
keeping within the circle of life,
my laments go unheard
as I suffocate, run loose and
eventually break free...
love binds in ways
I couldn't fathom before,
tormenting; and I'm caught off guard
as life calls - checkmate!
In silence I wander, to distant places of my mind, probing, exploring the depths of the cavernous labyrinth. It frightens me, of what I'm capable of; of what I have so far gone through. I could not be sane - after all that, after everything, this body, this face, with a half smile etched across, though hollow, feels like an accomplishment.
And there is too little
Not enough softness
And the world may
One day do me in
And cause me to turn
To stone or nothing at all
And yet I am too strong to
Submit to these fears
And life may be hard but
So am I in my softness, my love
And my compassion that comes so
Easily to me that I may care for all
And while I may hurt and feel weak still
Now I know I may overcome all
Planted in my mind by my father.
Fed & watered by my first love.
Shined down upon by my second "love".
Ignored in the winter months after the sun left us.
Then there was him.
It seemed like for once the tiny crack in my mind where it grew from was slowly starting to wilt and die off.
Then the spring came.
You let me down, and the next thing I knew it was 100* and the small darkness grew at an astounding rate.
I was trapped in my own personal hell.