Smithereens

 

Ripped, torn, broken, devastated,

Too terrified to move, to try, to live.

The insides of me lie twisted, smouldering, annihilated

Still bleeding, still hurting, still screaming.

 

The first time, ten complete years did it take,

To stitch those pieces back together,

Little by little, thread, by piece,

Wove them back together with help from ‘Time’ and ‘Distractions’ those two professional doctors of broken insides.

 

Then the tempest came back, camouflaged this time in a sweet beatific smile,

And those pieces they ripped all over again.

Painstaking years of labour,

Again, lay strewn, some torn, some in smithereens.

 

Do I have the courage to try again I ask?

Courage to rebuild, to piece together, to stitch again.

The brokenness, the emptiness, the streaming eyes,

Doesn't let me see beyond these pieces lying here asunder.

 

'Time' that grand old man might have those elusive answers,

But the screams from within they do smother,

Any answers, any light, any possibilities.

The brokenness, the streaming eyes, the emptiness, my reality for today is all I see.

 

Cowering in a corner, too afraid to come out into the light,

Every move I shrink from, my demons holding me tight.

Flashes of frightful memories steal wisps of a smile

Laughter, mirth forgotten, shrouded in blankets thick.

 

Not sure, don't know, if I'll ever recover

To brave once more, the elements, to reconcile

So, for now I cower

In this little dark recess, this dinghy but safe harbour of my mind.

 

Perhaps if I don't venture yet again

Might I not feel that joy, but the sorrow I am sure to avoid

Isn't that a fair exchange then, to not feel, to not know that light again,

And also not to feel that brokenness, that emptiness, that raw deep wound?

That feeling

My soul screams out behind closed doors,

A restlessness seeps deep within.

My thoughts and prayers unable to curb or control,

I yearn for that familiar feeling. 

That touch, that caress, a whisper, a squeeze.

No I haven't felt these pangs before. 

Now I've seen the face of true love,

And defies it logic, reason or understanding. 

Now I can see that the burgeoning population,

Cannot be borne of this feeling.

It's irony lies in its gentle eating away,

Whilst at the same time it is blossoming. 

I turn to people for help and advice

To those who've never felt its gentle caress or raging tempest.

The very fiber of the being destroyed,

And yet the release of the soul witnessed. 

Yes, I've felt it, lived it, known it, breathed it,

It tore me inside out and then rebuilt it.

Perhaps whole I shall never be again,

But having known love's sharp fangs I shall in a heart beat relive it.

Lost losses

I didn't put my soul on the block,

No price demanded I of you.

The glitz, the glamour, the riches untold,

I sought nor took nor asked unto you.

 

Prepared was I, to lay my soul bare,

Everything of mine, prepared was I to give, to share.

Gave and gave, and then some more,

But no good came of it, no none at all.

 

The nights I cried, the nights I ran,

Away from the hurt and the pain.

You did come every single time,

And offered me riches some more.

 

But that glitter, that swag,

I wasn't after.

Only and only asked I to you,

To stop the hurt and the pain.

 

Cause my soul was not on the block,

To be bought or sold.

Only a heart won could be kept,

Nurtured and to hold.

 

This simple truth, it did evade,

Your senses lost,

At the bottom of a bottle,

At the edge of a passbook.

 

And so, it came to pass,

A return to the proverbial pavilion.

An adventure, several memories,

Some erased, buried and hopefully will be forgotten.