Myrah Carls

Reflections on glass
tainted, haunted memories
sanity's anchor.
...

It must have been the cold
that brought me back,
to a place in my heart
where you and I used to dwell.
...

All I have is myself -
with all of my insane ramblings.
I laugh, I cry,
I sometimes stare in the mirror -
...

Is there no end to this resentment,
to the seething anger that simmers below
the unseeming facade of a smile?
Threatening to boil over at the slightest provocation,
...

Alone, in the silence of the night,
images run through my head,
the memories fill my mind -
of a time in the distant past
...

I'm touched by the way a sad bird sings -
of how its melodies strum my heart
on silent strings;
the notes and chords reach my soul,
...

I think I've come to the end of my line -
where feelings don't matter, neither does time;
fleeting images of what once was past,
I'm grasping at lost memories, holding on fast.
...

Move on.
No more backward glances.
Move on.
Stop wishing for what once was.
...

I will go where the moonlight takes me -
down paths I've walked before.
Shuffling along with feet bound to my heart
unitl the light reveals me,
...

Resentment is the silenced voice
of imprisoned emotions,
struggling to breathe -
like fire in a closed glass jar.
...