The photons call out in desperation, for the body to pay attention.
Running my fingers over the scars, I close my eyes.
Don’t store the detritus in your body. It will mire down your feet.
Where is nowhere? On the edge of sanity, where all the color and magic resides?
Sexual abuse, trauma; Leaves physical scars Too deep to ever leave.
I am a poetess a prowess, a lioness ripping through emotions a shark in an ocean of sadness and incapable expression.
I have dissected new sections of pain which remain in the hidden spaces of my brain.
I spent the last couple of evenings sifting through CDs of writing going back almost 15 years. This poem was written in 2005. It really took me back to the cusp of my pain. In those days when I felt deeply haunted, poetry was my soul's literary life saver. Do You Want To Know Why … Continue reading Do You Want To Know Why I Won’t Let You Get Close? Circa 2005
My gold is woven in possibilities and endless patterns of emerging change.
I can only sit and observe,
The winding streets of your hurt.