IT HURT LIKE HELL,
TO WATCH YOU DIE.
TO WATCH YOU TWIST THE KNIFE.
SIDE TO SIDE,
FORWARDS AND BACK
SLOWLY YOU TWISTED THE KNIFE.
TRYING TO CATCH A GLIMPSE
OF IT’S SHINING BLADE.
BUT YOU NEVER SAW.
STARNGE HOW YOU NEVER SAW IT,
NEVER FELT IT’S PAIN.
ONLY WHAT WAS INSIDE.
INSIDE AND EATING AWAY.
AND THIS IS ALL METOPHORICAL
BUT IT HURT LIKE HELL.
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This poem reminds me of something I concluded yesterday. I know why I love your poetry, that's been said- depth, feeling, nobility, honesty, unique perspective from a unique mind, favorite poetess on the planet, best of the best, etc., but there's more. It's all being spoken in my language by a soul whom I can feel and relate to. And I feel every wound, every stab of pain and suffering, every theft of soul and life by that little death who tortures and afflicts in these feelings and these words. But more over, empathizing with the feelings, and ultimately the writer, I sense the spirit and heart, the essence of both because I am uniquely and almost maddeningly intuitive and empathic. It's more than a voyeurs front row seat for me. My feelings are so deep and so nearly uncontrollable that reality for me is an animal that I don't think most males could handle. I certainly never could. Barely, usually.
ReplyDeleteBut my point is, I know now why I keep coming in here so obsessively (as if obsession is one of MY flaws??? **sigh**) I come in here to be hurt with you, even as you expel it. I come in here to be wounded with a friend, so she doesn't have to be hurt all alone. I don't know if you understand that, Queen Monster. But it doesn't matter. I'm not seeking gratitude. Nothing will change who I am. And maybe who I am is what it took to produce a soul who sees your words and know that they are more than words, but living spirit breathing out mysteries and pain in sage language.
Please forgive my honesty. I'm not trying to become your best friend or anything. I just adore you without measure and you have a permanent place inside my heart, and if I don't at least voice it, something always breaks inside of me. I wasn't built very well, you know. Someone forgot that I was being placed on meat grinder earth when they made me. I almost didn't make it to today. In fact, most of me is still someplace behind, lying on the road somewhere. But I tried to salvage the good parts :)