the tormented sorrow in
shadows hiding
a splinter buried deep
with toxins seeping.
I left it on the beach
the sea to take and
bleach with time its
cruel skeleton a
dead weapon of
intravenous grief.
I left it on the beach
and filled the hole
it left behind with
laughter and tears
and honest reckoning
with the hopeful innocence
of a brand new day.
I left it on the beach
and found myself, again.
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2 comments:
I've been reading your blog since you started the short story "Evangeline." In fact, I check every day to see if you've posted anything new. I believe you are an undiscovered poetic talent and should pursue recognition. You have a way of weaving words together that is rare and raw - many times your words literally give me goose flesh. That to me, is a sign of greatness and a woman so in touch with her emotions that she can paint pictures with words and letters. You're an artist whether you believe it or not. Thank you for sharing your gift with the world.
Whatever you left on the beach should stay there. It is time for you to live again.
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