Tag Archives: Word

I Cave In

With gritted teeth I tear at my chest and dig
bits of bone and flesh flying
only to find the heart empty.

And through tear filled eyes I blink at the remains,
blurred feet and blood pooling.

Drip.
Drip.
Drip.

And so there is nothing to do
but stitch together the remains.
The thread protrudes, scars bold and evasive
but the thread is strong
the mould holding

And so to the sky, tear filled, hazy eyes
                               I let the air brush my cheek
   gently
And mournful howls rustle the leaves
                                 the  heart  is  pounding

And you latch on to the moment
This cavity feels full once again.

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I Fight Demons

There is a voice in my head that tells me only You can fill my heart
and the demons inside me fight it.

And I fight the demons

Knowing their whispers bring my destruction.

Sowing seeds of doubt, delicate stitching,

With thin, black string warping the tendrils of my heart
and thoughts flitting past,

I cannot catch them.

Fearing the day the blackness within me finds it’s way to my tongue,
after all, the soul emerges through conversation
and the tongue is a powerful weapon that can sow your destruction.

And I need to find the strength to fight them.

I Flounder

A path weaved of many paths,
Borne from the actions of one and the thoughts of another.

Labyrinthine.

Twisting and turning, carving, walls towering, ensnared from every side, keenly observing. Which path? What will be and what will become of me?

Valleys sweeping low through the hillside, paving the way through dense fog, stumbling. Or climbing, over dark and heady air, breathe and breathe again, in and out.

Inhale the the sweetness of the coolness surrounding me.  A warm embrace guiding through the unknown, so many paths to the one destination.

I am not convinced of the path ahead. Two steps left, one step right. A puzzle missing pieces, no victory, no conclusion in site.

Yet to stand still with so many opportunities. Only a fool stands still.

Take the first step.

I Am Worm Fodder

Who dared to tell me that I am more then I am and what made me think that I am so significant,
When once I did not even know I existed and once I curled into the warmth surrounding me,
Dependant on one I had not yet met although I instinctively recognised her as my mother.

Today, I am aware of my existence yet tomorrow,
I may be worm fodder.               Six feet under
and these bones clothed with flesh will blacken until I am unrecognisable.
And those who love me will not know me.
Tomorrow a home will be built upon my bones
Not knowing I lie underneath,
Once thinking myself so high
Yet just as those before me,
I returned to my Maker.

I am worm buffet.                    Six feet under
and tomorrow I may return to my Maker.