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Archives for aftermath

dying, with sparkles

There is no filling the empty soul.
It closes up around itself and refuses to take nourishment.
Nothing is right,
nothing lights the darkness.
The soul needs to sing and dance and play, joyously.
If joy has gone of its own accord
or been sold to the highest bidder
the soul will starve.
Take back the joy.
Let go of the shiny substitute.
Death hides [...]

picture perfect

It is quiet.
The perfume of flowers floats like a song on the evening air.
I whisper my love to the trees,
my heart soars with the dancing of birds in flight.
I feel close to the earth
and in tune with the spirits of her many wild creatures.
I am one of them. I belong here.
I don’t want to be [...]

that damn shoe

You taught me to walk in the other one’s shoes,
rather than feel my own pain.
Maybe that person had a bad day, maybe their feet hurt…
maybe that person is just mean and I shouldn’t try to understand!
I wish I had just told you to walk in my shoes!
I had enough pain, didn’t need someone else’s.
I needed [...]

exposure

tonight, i feel like a bird’s nest covered with skin.
broken, twisted little branches
held together with bits of string and sticks and stems
wound up tighter than necessary
to protect the pieces of me
that have yet to shatter

secrets and lies

i choose my truth
from a basket of tangled memories
and a wicked, cold reality
that i can not outrun

broken light

The tender, thorny crack in my soul
keeps stubbornly scratching,
and picking at scabs of those thousand yesterdays
that should never have been.
Was there ever a pain that faded quietly away
without the tedious midnight parade;
or the broken-glass smile that is somehow required,
by the fierce, screaming dawn of today?

sparkle

I am feeling alone
until I notice
that today feels magical
the late spring sunset has cast a golden glow on everything around me

my patchwork quilt

no sooner does my head touch the pillow
than the patchwork quilt of my memories and regrets
pulls itself up around me
and snuggles in for the night.
every remembrance,
whether lovely or sad, has its own patch in the quilt.
the beautiful faces of my children and grandchildren,
my poor little mother, dying before she was even my age,
chasing fireflies on [...]

begin again

life interfered
but the time is now
to return to what I love and what I can do well.

storm

suddenly the storm is me
my emotions rage and tear the air
like debris tossed about in a wild wind
i will not be peaceful if it means dying with the words suffocated behind my lips
i will not be a shadow any longer
i must stand in the light
even if it is a storm