Every time I sit to write
I incessantly cry
so I incessantly write
until I can't cry
but I can't see what
I've written because
my tears
so big,
cause everything
to be magnified beyond
literal recognition
blurring
my vision
of
my page
my conscious
finds faulted memories
of you and I
and my hand starts to
play the blame game
skewing the poem
I was writing
but I don't know if it's
a poem anymore
because
I can't see it...
I can't see...
I can't...
I...
I can't see you.
In my blindness
I find I can see
if I sit still...
One Love, One
I'm so glad I got to read your words today. This was beyond a beautiful thing...I loved this...
YES!! Love the ending....u c what you're initial focus was before you began to write...beautiful
i have been there before . . .
your writing has gone to another level, i am unable to say what that level is, but i can feel you more than ever in these new pieces. keep on writing. i find great pleasure in reading your work.
Prophetic Echo
Gail Clarke