The looking glass tells truth and so we shatter it:
Not all at once . . .
First a crack, then it spiders, and finally . . .
shattered pieces all around.
You only tried to help, to force my gaze to truth,
But I lashed out, over and over again,
Until . . . is there no no hope?
The slivers cut as I breathe in and out,
Now slowly killing me.
I cannot bear this death I have caused:
A spirit so vibrant, and now writhing in its last fleeting hope.
Do not give up; I cannot.
A fire to merge the remnants and purge the pain;
A new creation of beauty perhaps, or nothing but death.
Please do not give up on me
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Comments: 14
I just read your work to my sister--On the phone...miles away.
I hope she gets out of a hurtful relationship.
She gets it, as I do--your meaning.
Your closing: "A new creation of beauty perhaps, or nothing but death.
Please do not give up on me."
I say it to you, now, as I said to her.
Never. I will never give up on her.
The untapped possibility of her.
Simple Happiness is possible.
She can't see it as a possibility now.
It waits for her, as it waits for you.
If I could give you 'a 20' for the power of this poem, I would.
It is worthy.
As are you.
Never let anyone tell you otherwise.
Keep writing. And move on.
Kat
Not all at once . . .
What a hook! I love it! These lines make me look inward to check and see if there are any truths I need to look at. Oh, there are a few!
Well wishes,
Pat