Sunday, July 27
The Compromised Soul
And it burns.
The images in my mind quickly frost over, jumble,
Crumble and kern.
My soul sneaks off so quietly, waiting for its request
To return.
She unquestionably obliges, each time compromised
In her sizes.
But she holds tight to her shelter's nature to learn.
The lessons seep in one by one, hopeful that the clock would soon
Slow down.
Don't pick up the pace, don't race or push to see if I'll ever
Get around
To pushing myself too.
Dark corners whispering out the thickening sound
That silence makes when confusion is complete and your soul no
Longer pounds
At the doors. Your reminders to return may cease.
She may drown.
Don't give up, don't ever stop to look back.
She's calling you quietly as you look blindly through
The black
That has taken over, suddenly sober to the hurt that slipped
Through the cracks
Until now. The inconsistencies racking up, constructions you'll
Have to break down.
She's all you'll ever have, all you'll ever get the chance
To love.
And now it's your turn to protect her, your turn to throw her
To what lies above.
A challenge only suited to succeed by living your life warranted
With blood.
Soaking from your head to your toes, and it goes to show
All you need is a shove.
Break into the world – hurting, curled, blurring and furled.
Break into the world with love.
Protect her.
Labels: On Inherent Callbacks
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Hi Lise,
This is Kat.
Saw your status on faceboko and had to check out your blog.
It's blog-tastic, and I really like this poem.
Hope your summer is going well!
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This is Kat.
Saw your status on faceboko and had to check out your blog.
It's blog-tastic, and I really like this poem.
Hope your summer is going well!
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