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(trying to set them free)
Folder:
Shadow Variations. save it.
time becomes something
that just passes between
myself and the world around,
outside of my thinking
and slipping further from my reach,
the notion that connects me
to the infinite of possibilty,
coming to terms, understanding
these chances worth taking
are really my needs,
to make a lasting impression
on the surrounding canvas of life
that is everybody,
to which
my conscious thoughts speak,
through the person they see,
or were it, the mystery of intrigue, underneath
though my heart reveals nothing,
just the brief expression
of the voiceless and neglected
cast of a person, i long to be, and
not even the sympathy
of feeling sorry
can complete, the lingering empty void
of surgery, performed upon my feelings,
when i unearth the decay
of the things, that i've buried.
(trying to set them free)
Surgeons must be very careful
When they take the knife!
Underneath their fine incisions
Stirs the Culprit,--Life!
-Emily Dickinson
your poem made me think of this one- life can be a downer. terrible when we would rather not feel at all than to feel what we are feeling..... nice to find out there might be hope yet!
your biggest fan-
christie
believe it or not this is the first time i have read this one. your talent and ability to paint a picture on my heart is quite amazing. metaphorical genius you are. wishing you luck on setting them free!
and ever
~me