
When moved I create free-formed poems. This is a short 1 minute read…
I know the last months and days have shot my anxiety level up into deep space. I tend to get a bit mean and nasty which is not helpful.
I am gifted at self-sabotage.
I thought this morning what if we could all go back in time and be an innocent child? Thus the photo – that is me from about eight years of age. Check out my bowl cut, innocent face and curious eyes…
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Love You, My Friend
I would open my heart, but I am afraid,
To open my heart allows you to see inside me,
To see my human imperfections,
So I hide my naked truth from the confused invader,
I wear a pirates tricorne with a fake eyepatch and I lash out with a wooden cutlass,
Slash, Gash, Severe, Injure, Wound,
I step back to observe the battlefield,
As the cannon smoke clears,
You see me; I see you,
But I cannot see your vessel’s scars,
And you cannot see my vessel’s scars,
Calloused, Cold-Blooded, Heartless, Insensitive, Apathetic,
Now the silence at sea,
Beneath our epidermis,
Mindless life experiences germinated from hate and hurt,
Power, Greed, Perversion,
Violence, Venom, Revenge, Hostility, Pain,
Agony, Torment, Anxiety, Bitterness, Misery, Grief,
I decide I will retreat to my island,
Numb to the world,
So, I will build an invisible wall around my island as high as Orion’s Belt,
Protected by the three sisters,
My thick island wall will stretch toward Andromeda,
Flanked by Perseus, master over the Gorgon,
I am guarded inside my self-imposed exile,
My little boy, my lost innocence, my scars,
In safe harbor,
Sheltered, Defended, Veiled, Separation,
Alone,
Isolated, Detached, Secluded, Private, Confined, Empty,
Lonely,
Someday I must emerge from my island fortress,
I have fished out the waters and deforested the coconut trees,
If I do not emerge I will die, we will all die from emotional hunger and thirst,
I walk out onto the scorching beach sands; I drop my cloak, drop by wooden cutlass,
I take off my fake eyepatch,
My defenses stripped away,
And I say, “Love you, my friend.”
NS
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