Pain sears my heart

Pain sears my heart.

It sears my soul.

It takes my breath away.

 

I struggle to see through the tears.

I struggle to breathe my own breath.

I struggle to live each minute.

 

Pain sears my heart.

 

I just want it to end.

I just want it to stop.

I just want it to go away.

 

But, it doesn’t.

It stabs me like a spear pierces its prey.

It chases me all day and well into the night.

It haunts my awakenings and its stalks

me in the darkness.

 

It makes me want to run away.

It makes me want to hide.

It makes me want to give up.

It makes me want to give in.

 

Just to stop the pain.

Just to end the suffering.

Just to stop the silent deaths that I feel deep inside.

 

The silent deaths that I have felt over and over so many times in the past.

 

Pain sears my heart.

 

The pain of another time comes bursting forth

The pain of another place comes calling and beckoning.

 

Reminding me of just how painful it all can be.

 

The pain of another love, a first love, reminds me of

just how painful

it

can

be.

 

I don’t want it all to feel

that

way

ever

again.

 

And, I will do anything to make it stop…

 

Even take away what it wants most.

Even end what it needs…

Just to stop the silent tears from falling

ever so slowly deep within my heart.

 

Pain sears my heart.

It sears my soul.

It takes my very breath away.

 

I struggle to breathe my own breath.

 

Desire

Desire.

You bite and scream at me.

You tantalize me

in these later years.

 

I want what I don’t have

but yet don’t take what I want.

How that was so not the case

when young and

foolish?

 

Then,

you were a prey

to be caught and to become

all mine.

Like a hawk

circling high over head.

I saw you

and had

to have you.

 

You didn’t stand a chance.

 

Now, things are wrong and right.

That dividing line

stops me there.

Dead in my tracks.

Or perhaps it is my own belief

that I am not worthy to

be the idol

of anyone’s

longing.

 

Desire you are a trick

and an

absolute

fool.

 

You take me down paths

that are not mine to trod.

You lead me to believe

that there are possibilities

when none truly exist.

 

When none materialized.

Just figments of an old imagination.

Left to rot.

Doors that open to nowhere.

 

Desire.

I hate you and I love you.

Just as if you were the

thing

I coveted.

 

Desire.

Stop your push and

your pull.

Let me alone

in my own

misery of

forever

longing.

 

Stop your trickery.

It is all over.

 

 

A woman driven by a desire that fueled her soul….from long ago.  Who is she?

 

When I think about Chicago…

When I think about Chicago…

I think of you.

Wandering slowly

along the streets

memories following me

around

each

corner

in every

crevice.

 

When I think about Chicago…

I think of you.

I can’t escape.

It has been so long

since I have seen you

but yet

here it feels like

a yesterday

that I can’t have

anymore.

 

When I think about Chicago…

I think of you.

Loneliness overwhelms

me

even as I

walk in

a throng

of people

full of chatter

and

laughter

leaving me

silently replaying

a life

long ago

as if it were

a

silent movie

on a big screen.

 

When I think about Chicago…

I think of you.

How enamored you

were

with

such a

vibrant,

full of life,

attractive

young women

adoringly

loving

you.

 

When I think about Chicago…

I think of you.

Only you.

 

I wonder if today

you would

still love me

like you did then?

Would you still

find me

vivacious

and full of life

now when none of that is left?

 

When I think about Chicago

I think of you.

I wonder if our love

would have been

so perfectly imperfect

now when nothing seems right anymore?

 

When I think about Chicago…

I think of you.

I wonder if you would

still look at me

the way you did then?

Would you still want to hold me

like you did before?

Would you still reach for my hand

and

and never let it go

now when my youngness is gone

and my beauty

has faded?

 

When I think of Chicago…

I think of you.

Of our past.

And, of

our future

that never came.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My deepest longing

What I really long for…

is to be touched as I was once touched

with adoration

and desire

and

passion

like a slow burning

ember in a fire

left to die.

 

What I really long for is…

to be celebrated

and honored

and

cherished

by a knowing glance

and piercing eyes

all the days of my life.

 

What I really long for is

a time

when I felt

free

to explore

to just be

living life with pure abandon

releasing myself

from the frantic pace

of a life

lived without purpose

with a drive to accumulate

and amass

what cannot

be kept.

 

What I really long for is…

to feel the pain

that sears my heart

like a knife cuts

through a

luscious piece

of fruit

to its deepest core

dividing it

in half

releasing its precious

juices.

 

What I really long for is

to travel to the heart

of it it all

to immerse myself

in a land

where

intersections cross

divides

and divides

create

intersections

and where

I am a bystander

roaming

amongst

the carnage.

 

What I really long for is…

to heal the wounds

in a world

where hatred runs

rampant

and

goodness

is hidden

beneath an exterior of greed

and ideology

and

ego.

 

What I really long for is…

to find the purpose

hidden behind

a false

exterior

living deep

within the interior

enrapturing a shuttered heart

encapsulating

a longing soul

calling

desperately

to be recognized.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wake up.

Wake up.

 

Wake up.

To a world that is

crumbling all around

us

in untruths

and manipulation

in the name

of

power

and greed

and fame.

 

Wake up.

To an earth that

is crying out

in

injustice

to the hurt

that it

ensures

everywhere

and in

everyplace.

 

Wake up.

To the hate and divisions

that exist

because of

deeply-rooted

beliefs

that fester

under the wounds

left

scabbed over.

 

Wake up.

To what is beautiful

all around

that goes

unnoticed as we

silently walk by

in our hurried

rush.

 

Wake up.

To the ancient call

that we fail to hear

that

cries out from

deep inside

of a well

that reaches

all the

way to the soul.

 

Wake up.

We are hurting.

 

Wake up.

We are harming.

 

Wake up.

We are dying.

 

Wake up.

It is my deepest hope

It is my deepest hope…

that someday, peace will reign

and violence will

no longer exist

in a world

divide by theology and

ideology.

 

It is my deepest hope…

that an earth full of calamity

will revolve

around a loving

sun

and a

caring moon.

 

It is my deepest hope…

that all those in pain

will see the light

of the bright sunshine

on a

long summer

day

rather than

the darkness

of a pale

cold

moon

on a bitter

winters night.

 

It is my deepest hope…

that once there

was fear

there is now courage

for all those

who cannot find the

words

and the

voice

to speak their

truth.

 

It is my deepest hope…

that one day too

I will find my own

in the dark forest

of which

I have inhabited

in the recesses

of a captive

mind

on a vast planet

in an infinite

cosmos

breathing

one breath

at a time.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

I return to the deepest of sources

when my soul

cries out in remorse

for all that it longs

for

but cannot

find.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when my pain

has taken a

hold

and embolized

me in fear

leaving me

captive.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when the anger

can no

longer remain

inside

without

poisoning my

veins.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when I cannot

cry

any more

tears

of grief

and

sadness

like a river

run

dry.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

when the love I thought

I had

is now

gone

and

in its

place

only rests

nothing.

 

I return to the deepest of sources

to find

you

silently waiting,

silently watching,

silently wanting.

 

 

No more.

No more

do I worry about what you think.

I know that what I think is

more powerful

than what

you say.

 

No more

do I let you use words against me.

For I know that

those words

are meaningless

from the mouth

from which them come

 

No more

do I believe what you say about me.

For what you say about me

is just

your projection

of you

onto me.

 

No more

do I let you touch me.

For when you touched me

it

was full of fury and venom

and

represented

years of

hate

far beyond my lifetime.

 

No more.

No more.

No more.

 

The illusion

of my own

wrongdoing

was cast upon me

like a net

that I take

no more.

 

Inspired by this song…

I feel my own weight

I feel my own weight.

Pressing down on me

holding me in place

to this spot

where I sit and wait.

 

I feel my own weight.

For the first time

like I have never felt it before

sinking me further and further down.

 

I feel my own weight.

Wanting to reach out

and touch you

like I have never touched you before

as you gently hold out your hand.

 

I feel my own weight.

Washing over me

as I see you

and watch you

as you stand near me

like waves coming into the shore.

 

I feel my own weight.

As I have never felt it before

sitting in the silence

feeling your absence

as I have always felt it since

like the first time

since I felt it the last time.

 

I feel my own weight.

I feel my own weight.

I feel my own weight.

 

Where are you?

Where did you go?

Have you left me?

Yet, again?

 

I feel my own weight.

 

In a dark time

In a dark time, my heart is nourished

by dreams that lull me into a soft sleep

forgetting all of the ills of a disconcerting

world.

 

In a dark time, my heart is nourished

by your touch

every so gently as you reach

to grasp my hand

drowning in your own

sadness.

 

In a dark time, my heart is nourished

by the call of my name

like an owl in the middle of the night

seeking its prey

while all the night creatures

scuttle about.

 

In a dark time, my heart is nourished

by the silent tears

of all those around me

who go about their

days unnoticed

not mattering.

 

In a dark time, my heart is nourished

by the glance you give me

across the table

knowing that it holds

the ancient pains

of a soul lost in a distant

time.

 

In a dark time, my heart is nourished

by my own pain and sorrow

held deep within

seeking an exit

to heal a vast humanity.

 

In a dark time, my heart is nourished

by the pain and strife

of a hurting world

who knows only division

while rhetorically speaking of its

wholeness.

 

In a dark time, my heart is nourished.

 

You are my hope.

You nourish me.

Take my hand.

Don’t let it go.

 

You nourish me.