How the body speaks
As the wheel turns How the body hurts Lighting the way With a brutal honesty Arising from within It was all grief she said As she wiped the tears From her knowing Oh well if my sadness offends These feelings Are the same ones That enveloped you in love There are notes of sorrow In the moan of her breathing I am ok with the leaving I have given it many thanks This balance does not come easy It has not come easy I bite my tongue To the point of bleeding You do not have to be a victim To be hurt She stopped battling the waves And let them crash upon her easy Unearthing the sediment Of buried self worth Behind so many apologies for being The words come from her stomach And bottleneck at her mouth Where do I begin? Swimming towards her shore She has to defy her drowning She has to defy her drowning She has to defy her drowning Lungs full of regret She collapsed onto the sand And coughed up resentment Nearly choking on those tears Full of salt That threatened to erode her thriving Gasping She wiped her slate clean With breathing It was all grief she said Oh well if my sadness offends If nothing else I am entitled to my depths And my river Flowing underneath this surface The weight of her patience The fire of her passion Compacted the sand beneath her Under pressure She became mirror to each grain With her own eyes She is seeing She can house her ocean And all that washes ashore She is strong enough To hold down the Earth And when need be She can be carried away With the wind It has taken eons To balance her current She is tempestuous by nature So she grounds with forgiveness These feelings are her eyes Even when she wishes to sleep There is her vision Open and Filled with emotion She has never been apart From this world and its vibrating When the tide is low Off in the distance You can see her wading As it is troubled You will catch her swimming Her eyes Watery and becoming Will pierce Through the air Like a siren's song It was all grief they will say Oh well if my sadness offends
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AuthorI am a poet, for better or for worse. It is a way in my being that, ironically has no words. It is a way in my being that finds me when I, and helps me to, forget. I am a poet, for better or for worse. Archives
November 2021
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