Is this really grief for the fantasy now dead,
Or is it regret for seven years tainted
With a lie I told myself?
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
Is this really grief for the fantasy now dead,
Or is it regret for seven years tainted
With a lie I told myself?
Revisiting words
Those that once tugged emotional strings
Wetting eyes and shortening breath
Without changing form
Somehow have become vicious…
Cleaning to pass time
Long wait to see friend again
Smiling all the while
Friend’s words taking root
With generous perspective
I can hope again
My metaphors are odd, mismatched
My word choices are unusual, maybe nonsensical…
I became emboldened
Thinking this was it
Thinking I had the big mystery solved
I was carried by my arrogance
…crawling with shallow punishments… inflicted in anger and defiance of the norm, and refusal to accept its claims.
Holding the request, someone calls out to them again and again… But of course everyone has much more important things on their mind.
Did they find a safe shoreline?
Was their heart calmed
And did they find their…
Autumn leaves drifting:
Longing to see them return
Friend’s homecoming nigh
I belong nowhere
Or I belong everywhere
Why can others choose
Welcoming others
I am reminded again
I shouldn’t be here
Glancing at others
With peripheral vision
Why am I still here