Faith Jul 7
I rip myself apart,
Piece by piece.
I place bits of my heart,
Into your hands.

I tear my soul,
Little by little,
And gift a morsel:
But when will I realize,
You never asked for me,
Or my vulnerability?

Remaining transfixed.
You step on my soul,
Dirty it,
Bury it,
Beneath soil,
Without a second glance.
No mercy,
Or pity,
In your eyes.
Simply and only,
A slight surprise.
You never asked for my care,
And were never aware,
Of all I invested,
All that manifested,
Beneath my shell,
Deep within my heart.
So why would you mind,
Tearing it apart?
RK Mar 11
If I had known before I'd decided to take on this task, into this labyrinth of a living hell, how it would have broken my heart.
Would I have attempted to?
It was too much for any soul to go through  such pain and torment.  The sages of the ages have forewarned, it is not for the faint hearted.  So many different strands, layers and knots to work through.

I didn't even know where to start.  I looked within as far as I could, to see how I ended up in this tangled web of confusion.

I  set about the work of separating, to untangle the different layers, down to the very root, to the core, the beginning.

The dark night of the soul took me on a journey, one I had created by my own stupidity and utter ignorance. I couldn't yet see the true cause for my sin for the light was dim.  There was still a long way to go to the centre.  
And it wasn't easy.

Friends and family couldn't understand how important it was for me to work through the tension.  My body soul and mind, torn asunder by the pressure I was under.  There was no rest, no relief. A labour of love was my reason.  At all costs I had to undo these awful unruly knots, to undo the damage done, to return to the original splender. I had created this unforgiving state where I now found myself. Not being aware of the difficulty I had gotten myself into.

It felt like treason.

Patience was the prerequisite to the success of this operation. Layer by unending layers it became easier. Loosening  out the knots with gentle care, a prayer, a desire to be; amidst all this work and frustration. To bring to an end this living nightmare of hell, suffering and endurance.

I knew it was hard for others to understand. Nothing could take me away from all these strands. To get back to where all the trouble started. Somehow a gentle peace entered, a stirring of gratitude, love and acceptence.

A surrendering---


Finally, and gratefully, I held the whole ball of beautiful soft green wool unblemished, in my hand, now back to its original beauty
Im knitting  for my grandchildren and one of the balls of wool got so tangled, it ended up a living nightmare. I could have just left it, but somehow I felt the need to undo the tangles. It took me three days to work through. there were strands of wool stretched all over my kitchen . It's very rewarding to not give in, to persevere . Well I'm a bit like that you see.
So I took the start of the wool from the centre of the ball but made a huge mess of it.
Thank you for reading.
Peace
How did you get in here
How did you work your way into my life
The one I keep people out of

How did it start to get to me
How did I start to care
How did you start to matter
When nothing else does

How did I not see you coming
How did you dodge my defence
How did you get past the walls
      
      Those are lies
                     I let you in
Harsh Dec 2014
When every other thing in your life has shattered
and you are a shell of a person and all you do
is call me at an ungodly hour to be alone,
you don’t have to say hello. You don’t have to say
anything. Let your sadness speak its lengths
through the silence that permeates through our phones.
I’ll stay on until you fall asleep, or I’ll come to your place
and hold you until you find your breath again.
I’ll wipe away the tears for you, but I won’t tell you
not to cry. Sometimes crying is the only thing we can do.

When you’re tired, just look at me and
give me one of those exhausted smiles we share;
I’ll carry you home and undress you.
I’ll fold your clothes to the side, tuck you into the covers,
and read to you while caressing your hair.
Don’t worry about snoring or moving about
while you sleep; just get your rest.

When you’re furious and all the world has done is
disappoint you, I’ll hang from a doorway and be
your punching bag. Don’t be gentle with me.
Yell until your voice splinters and you punch your knuckles raw
and stomp until your knees give out from under you.
I’ll lay you down and ice your hands and give you tea
for your throat. I’ll hold you as the rage turns into
anguish and frustration and all you can do is tremble.

And even when my actions are futile and
all my words do is come crashing about your ears,
I promise that I will at least try for you.

All your wounds heal both inside and out.
I will always be here to soothe the burns.
I will always listen to your rants and ramblings.
I will always have a hand for you to hold.
I will always love you; everything that I have
and everything that I am, all that that I ever will be,
is yours.

Always.
My rendition of this piece: http://lntroductions.tumblr.com/post/75665068982/and-if-you-call-me-at-4-am-too-sad-to-even-say
AIA Nov 2015
I still believe in every lie.
Trust into mistrusted ones.
Care even they don't care.
Give time though they not even worth giving for.
Love who does not love me.
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