2 minutes reading time (452 words)

Coming To Terms

Balancing delicately on emotion

One more expression you'll tip

You felt too much up 'til now

How much more can you permit?


There are letters crowding a shoe-box

Waiting restlessly to make their trip

Do they speak of a long-dead past

To some allusions you haven't gripped


What keeps you from sending them

Why keep these words so tight-lipped

Come to terms with the fear, child

Sooner or later we all must sail that ship.


Pools of hate at your feet

Wrung from your desperate hands

They clench as you bend reality

In your head to fit your demands


The blood of your bitter torment

Flowing from the body of an icon

He is the target of your rage

The one you have seeked revenge on


Will his death seal the vault

Or would that add to the hole

All dying is temporary, my lady

Forever will last guilt within your soul.


Do you feel the loss of faith

That dwells under humiliation

There are no fruits on the tree

That was fed by your degradation


Do you feel a chill of remorse

For this script you have wrote

Will this evict all the demons

Be worthy of the time you devote


Consider the sweat on your brow

At what conclusion did you arrive?

Those feelings of hate are still there

All the labor-- the icon is still alive.


Reminders of the horrid past

Show up on your lovers' faces

Words meant for minor pain

Turn back some virulent pages


The ink is still fresh and clean

And the paper gleams flush white

From the margins a mist rises

You turn pale at this ominous sight


All she's done exposed in sky-writing

The message seen is still so unclear

Slowly you breathe in its meaning

But as words it doesn't come anywhere near.


Seas of disarray toss your mind

As this mystery grows ever vague

What you knew breaks its chains

Each piece falls away to stravage


Grasping for your scattered consciousness

Trying to assemble this evasive puzzle

All the pieces look the same shape

Perseverance and sanity is being guzzled


About to give up all dangling hope

The connection suddenly becomes plain

The answer lies within the victim

Time has come to end this outdated game.


The abuser was within the mind

Fists were fighting inside the brain

The fault was lying not in the scars

But wrapped and tied into a name


You made yourself the typical victim

Kept untold yesterday's violent truth

Held from others the whole story

That's when shame had secured its roots


At last the tale has been told

Here privacy will be guarded

Look around, this story's not unique

But its unveiling has only been started....

The Straight And Narrow
2000 Dreams
 

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Saturday, July 20, 2019

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