elegant un-symmetry
The clouds are hunting each other across the sky and my dreams are hunting me.
Blood drips from my finger tips in elegant un-symmetry.
Feet are buried, unable to run, and my strings have all come undone.
Tangled and snared I was a puppeteered woman, but now I am set free.
Standing in a spent field. The black wind billowing behind me.
Let the thunder come and take me, let the lightning strike.
I am too strong to leave but too weak to fight.
Hold me with your axe, let me feel the bite of steel in my bare hands, they know of things unstained, they know of the cries of man.
In the dark of days spent and the early risings of new ones to come, I am laid bare in ashes gray as the smoke rising in summer air. His arms encircle me in this place, his hands are soft and tender, his heart beats fiercely as his grace, which lays me sweetly under. it tells me to love this fellow, but the darkness still ensues. Arms that reach out to hold me, and I am seen in all the lights, standing naked, I am found. And in his eyes I see his eyes, and I am astound.
The night is black as pepper corns and smooth as cooled coffee.
Light calls across the road, but it's voice does not make me happy.
Sitting in quiet solitude, rocking in my chair. I await for the unwaitable, for the rebirth of mistakes sweet air.
In all honesty I await the jury in my mind, their silent decisions of consequence, their underlying emotions taken as a sign.
To the humble direction of a heart.
I cannot go alone into the deep and utter dark.
Do not sentence me to a life there, nor one of condemned happiness.
I am free to live, just as I please, but please, help me out of my madness.
It feels so good to write, to let the blackness out, it burns holes in my skin when I keep it captive, when I try and snuff it out.
Feathers soft and brown, white and speckled with sun. They touch my face, my naked skin. They sprawl over me in soft and strong protection.
And tomorrow when the sun rises I will rise as well, I wil shake the dust from my feathers, the congealed dirt from my skin, and when the wind and the worlds sing I shall be carried aloft again.
