Self

Long has been the making of my heart
And longer still the birthing of my soul.
When, as a child, I thought I knew my part
I knew not yet my being was not whole.
As malleable as thread upon the wind,
I strove to please the ones I thought knew best
While smothering that little dark-eyed fiend
The only part of me who could protest
The systematic sealing off of all
The better parts of me I could bring forth.
And so it came to be as I grew tall
And curious that I found my narrow course,
Uncovering the thing I long desired
To be yet lacked the confidence to find
Within myself, albeit she required
The little dark-eyed fiend that I did bind,
Who welcomes me with open arms and eyes
The truest part of me that there could be
The innocence, now tempered well with wise
Words, the girl who's not ashamed of me.

Onwards

Across the sands and swells of time,
I wander with this heart of mine.
Along this path I walk alone
My lonely heart has not a home.
Defiant, free, my will strides tall
My soul lamenting of its fall
My spirit, beaten down, yet bright
Cheers them on with guiding light.
My path, unset beneath my feet,
Is singing out a steady beat
That begs my heart to soldier on,
"We cannot be alone for long.
There must be others like us here."
And so, with hope, I swallow fear
And urge my weary feet to move
For love, I know, has more to prove.

The Way It Is

The way of life is to drag me down
To stab me, bury me, watch me drown,
The pressure weighing heavily
Till I can hardly stand to breathe.
I'm buried so I cannot stand
With no one there to grasp my hand
And pull me from the murky depths
Of earth and blood and unquiet rest.
Buried in wraiths and shadows thick
My past and pain to my heart stick
The beating of my blood is faint
And weak, like prayers of a dead saint.
Don't call yourself a friend if you
Won't have my back when I ask you to.
Leave me be, just let me go
You've hurt me more than you will know. 


(Written Jan 3, 2012) 

Sonnet Form IV - Ocean Lament

Great Poseidon! Call in thy tides
Draw me deep down to thy side.
Let the peace of ocean floor
Wash over me forevermore.
Banish deep my sorrow in thee,
Drown it in thy vast blue sea.
O great waves! Batter the shores
Play out my rage like ne'er before
Grant me release, so sweet and sharp,
To match the breaking of my heart.
Poseidon! Open wide thy bower
Grant me refuge in thy power.
And broken, lost, yet free I be
In the bosom of the sea.

Internal Darkness

Stinging salt water fills my mouth and nose. I cough, the wet, hacking cough of someone who has swallowed too much sea water. Water sloshes around my face and I feel something gritty pressing into the side of my face. I open my eyes, squinting at the light glaring down, to see sand and frothy sea foam just inches from my face.

Shakily, I push myself into a sitting position on the beach and take in my surroundings. Ocean that I remember as black and thick as tar washes up on the beach in gurgling blue-green waves, lapping at my bare feet. The sand is as bright and clear as diamonds and shines in the hot midday sun. Dazed, I look down at myself, half expecting my skin to be shining with color. But it is not so. My skin is still grey and dull, my hair black and limp. The rags wrapped around me are woven from internal Darkness, sucking the very color and light from the world around me.

A soft noise brings me whirling around in a panic. I stare, bewildered, at the procession of people crossing the beach a few yards off. They are all dressed in yellow and flame, and they carry strange instruments on which they played sweet, laughing music. They dance as they go, reveling in their life and beauty and light. I crouch down, watching the music swirl in bright colors from the instruments.

One of them notices me and points, saying something to one of his companions. They gather curiously around me, chattering like magpies. One points to my colorless skin and speaks, strumming a note on his instrument. Colored light rises and floats merrily about my head. The others cry out in delight and form a circle around me, singing and dancing and setting the air a-whirl with color.

At first the colors land and stick to me, and I nearly weep in relief. But they quickly fade, sucked away by the internal Darkness that shrouds me. They sing and dance with more enthusiasm and the colors fly, only to be sucked away even quicker. And then their song begins to falter, descending into mere noise. Their feet trip and trod upon each other, landing them sitting in the sand.

They cease playing and rise to their feet, defeat etched on their faces. They tuck their instruments under their arms and slowly wander off, one by one. The one who first noticed me solemnly drapes a flame-colored scarf around my shoulders and wanders off with the rest into the growing Darkness. I watch them go with the Darkness weighing even more heavily on me. I look down at the scarf hopefully. It is stone grey. I look out to the waves. They are as black and thick as pitch.

And I weep.