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Fools pieces

January 13, 2014

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I feel I may go mad,
My broken pieces elevated above my heart…
Sleeping on a recliner,
Marinating in the sounds,
Of every passing being,
I need some silence,
Alone…
Or just quiet encouraging presence…

Instead…They hover over me…with worry,
Like bees over a dying flower,
The last flower…
These people who so love me…
Don’t they know I will bloom again?
That the Phoenix flows through the veins of my soul?

And…

I’ve met a simple man.
He has no education,
But he says he loves me.
His thick accent doesn’t allow for surface charisma…
He knows I have no money, or health to lend…
“I want a house with you…
I don’t want lose you my Meighan…
You have what I look for…
…so long.
No one else touch me with such kindness as you.”

I wonder can it be so easy?…
To choose to love? (That’s always been my role.)
Or to allow myself to be loved?…(the part I find for myself now.)

I could let myself…
I could love him…
I want to…

Shouldn’t it hurt more to be apart from him?

He feeds me,
Includes me,
Introduces me,
Shares his ice cream with me,
Shares his mind with me.

Where would I be more the fool…?
To resist or relent…?
Gain or loss equal risks to either path…
No destination guaranteed.

The great question is…
Will love tie me down or…
Set me more free?

The little voice inside me whispers…
“…He wants more than you have to give…
He is as lost as you were…”
love can become suffocation…
and sometimes, we don’t know until swimming with sharks, becomes Swallowing lava.”

It’s unsettling to see the end…
And that is the beginning of the breaking…
The making…barely having been born…
Knowing what he lacks…
He cannot find in me.

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From → poetry, Uncategorized

One Comment
  1. This is a really wonderful line: “My broken pieces elevated above my heart”

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