Saving grace, whole heart back in your arms, you hold all of me as me; I never knew how non-words could feel the best route. Unspoken is our reset, mutual forgiveness, moving on but not leaving anything unaddressed. We understand, silent resolutions, in the simple language of love.
Do you mind if I stay extra near awhile, to just exist in this balance, a respite from the drama of being so much?
Sometimes (more often than not), I exhaust myself with this wild heart and wild soul I house.
I must part ways with you now, dear Darkness; Light is forlorn without its Laura,
my aura is dimming the further I drift in this alluring cradling away from attempts
of putting forth the efforts to swim back up toward Bliss:
I still hope, believe (barely), that it exists.
A parting kiss…
Yes, I know that means I will have to let go, for now, of that dream, but I can keep the parts that were seeded, for weeds they are not; I feel it, in that new spot, how I can nurture it into something beautiful still…
I return to the isle from a distance, leave a trinket, so it is known I’ll always be near,
Internal disposition of slipping into loss of direction, contingent upon situation, origin, intention, catalyst participation, leisurely initiated or punitively inflicted, meditation or conviction. Usually welcome as an introverted creative, this episodic disillusion stripping me of all pulls keeping me rooted to anything…
Loss of hearing among the noise.
Lifetimes paused, unable to decide
anything at all. Desirous of a
f a l l,
anything to move the air to revivify my trackable pulse, the beat of my heart back on the radar to be found again, though I am not