August 12, 2011

08/13/2011

I write poetry because I can hide behind the words a bit. It is me within those words, but not everyone chooses to look closely – to see deeply. Some days I wonder if that is what I want or if I am just fooling myself…

I am not

them –

unwinded standing spread open

as I expose bruises

to you,

tell you the faults of who I am

downslides and pitfalls

needing eyes

opened,

to the truths that pulse through me

listen to the way I breathe

your name softly

but strong and full of conviction –

I am not them,

I am me.

He sent me a text, told me he had something for me…

ryn: glad to hear it goes better. hang in there. it does sound really really hard. re: this entry…I don’t know about you, but I’m dying of curiosity as to what he has for you! I hope it’s really good!

Wonderful. I breathe her name the same way, hot from my chest even when it’s hot outside, I feel my rise in temperature. I’m love with who she is inside any and all bruises and faults. The woman or spirit she is, the same essence you convey and seek with your man.

i often go through the same confliction of hiding behind words youre definitely not the only one i think as writers its about finding the compromise and balance.. ..i wonder if we’ll ever get there (about anything, really..)

This… is quite lovely.