
These are random feeling I have to get into words for my own sanity. Writing is therapeutic and soothing to my soul. Sick with reflection of how scattered this noggin's broaden view can whisper hope bleeding hearts to smile.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
The Mother we Share
Too speak enough, or not too much. Shall I bargain or fold.
Slippery vision begs the memory to compose. Take life out loud.
An intense passion out of focus.. burns.
Set sail for a mansion of unearthing. Saw a trance and walked in.
A pirate buries its treasure. Do we choose to forget or remember? Infatuation of the colorful kind, meant to unwind a corset strung too tight, inside calmness fights.
Some days are better than others. It comes rushing back.
Achy and familiar is the humor in dysfunction.
Able to haunt, never punished, no justice.
Accomplice slash victim lives on. Pity exists.
Forgiven her, Forgiven me, still longing to heaven it.
Hope flickers as a candle bout to go off.
The window remains, a celestial nana bestowed.
Whole again, able to bend it grows bright again.
Devils and angels we create in our minds stretch from lover to sunrise. Painting a picture of perfection, wrings out the taste of actuality. Love has confused the dwelling of pearls.
Tunnels hold oval endings, to relieve the squinting.
How long is meaningless suffice? The more we become disconnected,
the more desperate the thirst takes flight.
The taste of alcohol on our lips,
brief intimacy that fills the urgent longing for touch
gives way to temporary sensation of bliss..
We hold back so much on the matters that matter most.
Don’t shut the fuck up about the grief and sacrifice that doesn’t exist. Embrace the Recourse. A hapless flight is an unfortunate inception.
Is there anything left to write? Is there anything left to fight for? The more I search for answers the harder it becomes to remember the question. The only clarity I find is near Mother Nature’s sublime.
Anny Ariz
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