Lingering, caught between
Wanting to leave and wanting to stay
Until she could sort out
The thoughts battling in her head
Wanting to escape from it all
Closing her eyes, drifting off
She is now taken away
To where she longs to play...
'A voice with a low sweet note in it
Like a cello and a smile
That lit its every shadow
Welcoming her inside
In the background she could hear
The flight of approaching geese
As their wings
Beat against the morning air
Her eyes drifted upward
The yellow sun was rising
A giant balloon filled with hopes and promises
Standing back, day has begun anew
A friendly face smiled at her
She was now as a withered flower
That has been stuck in a bowl of water
Drawing strength and blossoming forth
Contentment she began to experience
Making herself at home, within
Enjoying all that surrounds her now
Knowing it will all end soon enough
Her favorite time of day began to fall upon her
Just before sundown
Time of recollection
She could drink it in all night
As if drifting off again
Moonlight spilled
In through the open windows
Telling her, darkness was near
Memories of empty arguments
She began to feel her temper pulse
Her stomach immediately clenched
While the sour taste of angst burned her mouth
At that moment to free herself
She shouted loud enough
To shake the stars from the sky
Feeling trapped in a night without end
Praying for the sun to rise
For the night is a heavy companion
Again, that friendly smile and soft voice
Recited something quite thought provoking
"Some wounds that are inside the heart
take time and will mend slowly"
Those words were an intoxicating liquor
For her soul at that moment of need
Right then, night began to melt into day
Just as day surrenders into night
The shade felt like silk
On her skin
Out of nowhere it hit her
A sliver bit into her palm
Ripping it open with a snarl
Only to remind her of reality'
Within a blink of her eye
All that was calm and desired
Was stolen from her
Vanished
Rubbing her eyes
Trying to sort out
When the nightmare stopped
And the waking world began.
©2002
_________________
"A muse can never hide everything, they're bound to spill over.
Written words in ink are permanent and that's where I'll be - behind them."
~Girl*with*Ink~
releasing her muse through liquid |
