sorrow evident
nature mimics the heart’s aches
hard to hide sadness
Tag: sorrow
Carol Anne
Eileen
Eileen, my guide
Through the depths of my mind’s maze
With wisdom and care
You help me find my true self
In your presence, I find peace
Sunrise
Golden rays emerge,
Painting the sky with colors,
New day, hope awakes.
Nitro
Lost in memories,
Nitro’s pawprints on my heart,
Forever cherished.
The Morning Sky
Golden rays emerge,
Painting the sky with colors,
Morning’s gentle kiss.
Birds sing their joyful chorus,
Nature awakes with new hope.
Feeling Blue
In shadows I dwell,
Heart heavy with sorrow’s weight,
Hope’s light yet to swell.
~~~
Carol Anne (pen name) is a 40-something-year-old totally blind woman from Ireland. She is diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder and complex PTSD, and she enjoys reading, writing, and having fun. This is Carol Anne’s first feature with The Short of It.
If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.
#TheShortofIt – Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon
Rebelle Fleur
My Heart
bullet shells and shrapnel
cannon fodder for your laughter
this land lays barren hereafter
no glint or glimmer
no shining spark
this was not your playground
It’s my heart
Signs
caged by your ignorance
and sealed without thought
the little starling locked in a box
there were so many signs
but none of them said stop
Savor the Losses
your name is the calligraphy coursing through my veins
reverberating in the echo chamber of my heart
rest your head on my chest
can’t you hear how it is sung
every anecdote
every insecurity
every insult
is etched into the darkened stone of me
the scent of you seeped into the marrow
before each regretful whisper escapes my mouth
I hold it at the tip of my tongue
so I can savor the losses
I would happily dine on your laughter
even If I can never be the source
There are gifts in forgetting
the last time I saw you
you were just as handsome as the first
before I could ask if you ever think of me
you smiled and quickened your pace
I felt the river of my heart spilling past your face
on its way to the place where eternity is born
and there is no reference point for north
I watched the crescent waves of hope crashing and ebbing
and just past the shore
I laid your name to rest amongst an elephant graveyard
whose bones lack the gift of forgetting
Blue Eyed Boy
boy with the eyes of fathomless oceans
and hair of tendrilled sunbeams
the blue-eyed boy with the drum in his throat
you are still a thing I’ve touched but never really held
I love you, boy made of hyssop and hematite
I love you, hands at the small of my back
I love you, lips at the hearth of my ear
I love you, fingertips on rib bones
I love you, strained from my chest and drawn from my breath
there is no “un-making” of what we’ve made
the claim has been staked
if you wanted to be rid of me
you shouldn’t have stayed
~~~
Rebelle Fleur is a poet of Hispanic descent hailing from the Midwest. Often focusing on the esoteric, transmutational, mystic, or even macabre, her brand of introspective poetry can be found at fleurpoetic-blog.tumblr.com, where all weirdos are welcome. She spends her free time doing taxidermy of insects and small creatures. This is Rebelle’s second feature with The Short of It. You can read her first feature HERE.
If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.
#TheShortofIt – Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon
I Know
Inspired by What do you see #232
come
fall into my arms
let me take away your despair
i want to hold you
as the pain passes
from substantial to weightless
take all the time you need
let it all out
it’s okay
soon you’ll feel the heavy sobs lessen
and see the tears dry up
as your breath rhythmically calms down
bud, i promise
you’ll make it through
to this new reality
Mistakes
small and large
every size in between
we make them
others make them
the reckless, unintentional,
without forethought type of injury
is suffered upon the unwilling,
mildly harmed as well as grossly enraged
a mood, the time of day, the severity
at the time of infliction predicts our response
have a laugh and acceptance
compassion and empathy
or maybe cutting out their further influence
shall errors happen again and again
or will we learn to not repeat
perhaps we just get better at not screwing up the small stuff
only to really fuck things up
The End Of Hope
only some children
can claim that life is easy
only some adults
have a life that is easy
for there are many whose dreams
shattered before their eyes
heartbreak and heartache
the sum of their existence
when what is spoken is not true
when deceit dominates
yet forgiveness is expected
escape to better living is excruciating
Reblog – Twenty-Five Years by Jeanne Marie
Being in a long-term relationship doesn’t always mean it is a happy one. :_(
Twenty-five years she has spent waiting.
Will he love her tonight?
Waiting for him to shut off the TV,
Put the football to bed.
Dance her around the kitchen,
Arms around her so tight.
But it’s late when the game is over,
and all she gets is a quick kiss with his,
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”
Twenty-five years she can’t erase.
In the mirror she sees old pain in her eyes
Remnants of twenty-five years of fights.
Wrinkles dust her once smooth face.
Wrinkles she did not see yesterday
The wrinkles a present of time
Now permanently in place.
Her dreams will never
One magical day come true
Because she wasted her youth
Longing for love from you.
Wrinkles tell her that one day at a time
She threw twenty-five years away
She has waited far too long
To find her happy ever-after someday.
No strong arms…
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I Write Her 