A jaundiced eye, shuttered body
sarcastic mouth, guarded heart,
darkened mind, limited action,
reserved responses, numbly existing.
There's something profoundly broken.
Will it ever be fixed or is it even fixable?
Trust and love seem like foreign countries
where I am deaf and blind and senseless,
the dark robes of betrayal strangling
my heart, wetly pulling.
I don't know how to knit or
glue 'it' back together.
What is it, heart, soul, psyche,
What is 'it'?
I don't know.
I just know it is smashed
I will never be the same and grieve
the fragmentation of the
last strands of my innocence and hope,
yes, I had a few of those left at
The wind persistently removes those
last small crumbs of dusty sadness,
leaving a clean swept vista of
barren creativity, yet hoping
for moisture and nurturing.
Some days I fly,
others I crawl,
yet others, burrowing, hiding.
(Posted for Open Link Monday, 1-7-14)