I am a whisper of these words, still heard and heard and heard

The color of burntblue was there on a sunday’s eve

clear skies and murky water like the leftovers of a childhood memory

waveuponwave, like an endless rhythm beats

brave drums beneath a twilight heaven

swing to and fro, softer than a leaf resting on the breeze

the weight of the world was lifted

and taken far away from me—

but still remains this pain

holding a raw and bitter heart—

what questions told not to ask anymore

and still feel their beat in the dark

swollen soul, moving in and out of my mess like a fish,

i catch you in the glance and miss your eye—

though you never miss mine—

when in all my ways you caught me, i don’t know?

and when in all my ways i realized, i'm not alone?

and how will we go from here when we lift the veil of pain?

i really can’t imagine it gone, and me still remain.

swift comes the morning and evening

something is left behind

and i have searched the earth in her age—

only to long and pine

for what, i cannot place it,

a face, a friend i never knew,

dream of a dream i once had as a child,

never forgotten, never renewed?

were i to lift it up, like a rock upon the earth—

what would i find underneath, the grubs, worms, dirt?

oh what ugliness, oh my heart,

oh how i didn’t want to see…

the very knife that is my wound pierces me for the healing,

water and blood flow out

from where i know not

and i am bleeding still—

though whose blood i’ve forgot…