Am I affectionate enough,
when the words escape my mouth?
...
The willow tree sways
the breeze dense upon fractured
repentive vows.
He never shocked me into believing,
I just accepted at face value.
...
The slope of your shoulders
I once dreaded,
The tip of your tongue
a wave of violence,
rushing towards my heart's core.
...
After the death of love
little is left but regret
sometimes
hate and loathing
...
I fell in love with words at a very young age. I have learned to use them as a release, a form of coping with life..the sweet and bitter alike. Poetry substains me when all else fells. It gives me purpose, makes my world and the world outside my own more beautiful, more enduring. I write mostly from emotional experience, but not always. I hope my poetry has meaning to someone, somewhere out there...)
The Ramblings Of A Mad Women
Am I affectionate enough,
when the words escape my mouth?
It is all I can do to trade love for cruelity.
Like a nun polishing candles
in a burnt out church,
We weave lies where truth should be,
Our tragic nature a grievance
A disturbance of peace..
The dying words lost as softly spoken
words never reach the ears they were meant for.
The nun polishes for lack of anything better to do.