Sky

How is it the sky knowsthe heart’s secrets? My blood simmersinfernal this pain A stream of cloudslit by a fiery horizon reflects what wordscannot express How is it the sky knows?

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Stop the Words

These thought processes…I am inside out, shredded…on so many levelsout of sync…hear my own wordsnothing but hot airmaking me so dizzythat I’m becoming afraidof heights….phobic, actually Breathe,I remember somewherebetween gulps of heliumand the hammeringin my head…breathe… Platitudes have no placein this momentin the inside outemotionally raw now So, I’ll quit the wordsbreathe until I find […]

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Turmoil

Fierce the gathering clouds laden, heavy – my heart echoing the storm. (For Ronovan Writes Haiku challenge:  fierce & storm)

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Pause

Tides recede, puddled remnants of once oceanic flooding – emotions overpowering – threats now quelled. I breathe, lose myself in visions of gold and promising greens, yesterday’s heat a numbing haze obscuring tomorrow’s obstacles.

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Rage as Catalyst

This rage – this storm, waves crashing against walls impenetrable I am ice, unforgiving, unrepentant, wounded thrashing against a beast unwittingly played by you We freeze. I’ve come undone; you are battered. It is irreparable absolute until one of us shifts, and fear surges, unleashing tears and transformation.

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Appetite

The initial spoonful – salted caramel cool – consoles bitten tongue, slides down burning throat: appeasement for churning gut. Each spoonful savoured sweetness countering bile, dark chocolate shavings as bittersweet as the emotion being pushed down, buried Bruised by conflict, words ineffectual, ice cream an unworthy compensation, cravings turn to salty reprieve.

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Neurosis

sometimes when I write I eat – it’s my way of stopping the emotions from spewing all over the page sometimes when I eat and my emotions are numbed momentarily my inspiration dries up pardon me if I appear a little neurotic but I need to find a solution for this eating writing problem  

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Checked Out

Every woman needs a man, her mother told her, to make her complete.  To submit, she realizes, too late, soul traded for high-rise living, big city dreams numbing inner losses; she eats to appease an inner sorrow, a second-rate childhood, afraid of being a burden, loathe to create a stir, conditioned complacency: appeasing, pleasing, follows […]

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