You know how you hate to tackle that unruly closet, or room, or house, or life? Yeah. That's kinda what I started this blog for. Tackling the yuck.
I have always been one to process life via pen and paper. Sadly, pen and paper are vintage now... relics of a bygone era. Still cherished, but maybe not so relevant to the now. Hmmm. I'll have to chew on that a bit more, I definitely do not want that to be true. (If any of you know me I ADORE pens and I might have a bit of a fetish for paper too....) So transition to the expression of the heart via blogging. Yes, not a new idea, I know! It's just maybe kinda new for me...
So you know how sometime you write something and it comes from the dark hurt of that moment and the angst that you just can't quite let out ... the pain that you squeeze out in spurts so as not to permanently damage those close to you. Trying to only let it go in small doses... the toxic gunk churning on the inside. yeah... this poem is one of those bits.
i had thought
i had thought to be a star,
brilliant in blackest sky.
instead, wasted breath am i.
i had thought to be joy,
living flame.
instead, my soul bleeds clear, soundless pain.
i had thought you might see me,
hungry for the faintest touch.
instead, i wait and the world is void.
There is is...don't judge. Life can be tough.
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