
Photo by John Rocha on Pexels.com
she’s ransomed for chunk change
by the betrayal of her inward gaze
pain and her varied pins
the reddened lips of an untruth
poised to strike
she stopped writing then as if
they etched her into stone and left her to moss
and rain
fall.
As a child she was told again and again
you will fail
she, being headstrong and determined
never did.
They said she wasn’t clever enough so she
left the first place prize on their desk with the words
don’t destroy futures
carved into the wood just like
her tomb.
As an adult she decided
there is no fate, you make of life what you will
by never giving up
and that worked well until the illness
turned her into a wraith and sucked the life force
out
leaving emptiness within.
No matter how hard she tried,
living
and its delights
did no longer appeal
she had a vested interest in
letting go.
God
did not speak to her
she tried calling but
the line was busy
all she could hear
voices under water murmuring
prayer, curses, little confessions
wrapped in violet leaves and cast
from sight.
Her blind faith
had improved
in the darkness she stumbled
alone because when you hit the bottom
there is rarely anyone there to pick you up
those people who pretend to giveashit really
don’t
they only suck the same air as you
noisily like cattle at trough
it is rare to find loyalty or even true depth
especially in people made of
empty promises.
So easy you see, to say, yes you mean the world to me
in fact if you did not exist, I would die surely
my life depends upon yours and I am unable
to imagine a day without you.
Such little words, running like little ink
spreading like little lies, falling like
little shoes thrown into lakes
before the drowning.
See here? Your smile and the benificence of
your factor? I could measure
the extent of your professed heart ache
in jelly beans and find
sugar is too sweet
truth has a bitter taste
especially when it lies
dormant and wilted beneath your tongue
a key without opening.
your falsehood, like an actress pealing her stockings down
slow and smooth
I think of the times I wanted to believe badly enough
I swallowed the whole cocktail
syrup and all
just to feel for one moment
something was real
and we all descend
like discarded play things
compelled to stay beneath the surface
lower in gravity we sink
until air is a daydream
until breath a distant memory.
Your loyalty had a hole in it
the size of your folded lies
and in darkness we find all things
reveal themselves
including the tarnish sitting just beneath
glittering promise.
So then, what of the day above? And its
mercy
radiating like hands
pulling us up through weeds
long have we been submerged
in the weight of betrayal
there in, our sickness no end
just the owl leaving treeline for his prey
sharp eyes scouring landscape
just the lost embrace before you
punched your ticket and entered
the void.
Here I am swaddled in
soyousaids
and words do not hold much
resonance with me anymore
I am a creature of pain and unsettling
rinsed in regret, I find no place
to feel certain
only that time will continue to count down
toward something eventual and quiet
like the sound of a clock that persists
after the end of the world
has bid her leave
to tick.
Reblogged this on TheFeatheredSleep and commented:
Hijacked Amygdala.
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Wow! The pain is so raw, and comes through so intensely with your words that it’s heartbreaking. Clicking “like” seems so inadequate, and almost … inappropriate. 😢
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xoxo thank you for reading my friend
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So very sad.
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xoxo
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Is it fated to be so buried
So drowned in lies
Lies lightly spoken
As if of no consequence
Even in supposed kindness
To not be worth truth
To be so hemmed in by lies
As to no longer believe
There can be truth
And so, blind to it if it comes
And yet, to hunger for it
For any true word
Even if it wounds
To go through the world
Like a hungry ghost
Or, is there a way back
To discover trustworthy friends
And honest enemies?
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Honest enemies? How true that can sometimes be! And blind for truth as we hunger for it. I like that idea as it really is how it is
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Far better a frank and open foe than one who pretends otherwise. I’ll take ten Macbeths to my MacDuff over one Iago to my Othello.
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
TheFeatheredSleep – Abandoned to lies
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Thank you Bob for this reblog x
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Always glad to share your work. 🙂
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Sad to say how much this resonates… ❤
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I’m sorry because you’re right, if it resonates then that is a bit sad. But thank you for reading this dear one xo
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Its a brillaint poem
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Reblogged this on Fae Corps Publishing.
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Thank you dearest Patti for this kind reblog x
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You are most welcome. It’s a wonderful poem
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only that time will continue to count down
toward something eventual and quiet
The ultimate truth.
So many good images in this.
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“Words do not hold much resonance with me anymore” Love!
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Thank you so much!
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My heart aches for the poet and for the “me” I see in the words. Fabulous write.
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Thank you so very much
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