#58 My Promised Land. Somehow I Was Still Alive Pt II.

courtesy Wojciech Wolak

wojciech wolak

wojciech wolak

I had to 

crash into the earth

to find my place among the stars,

had to 

ride these waves and conquer sprays

to see land wasn't too far,

Watch me

break my own bones and rend my flesh

for a small glimpse of my soul,

learning to fly

through ageless nights

with wings I once refused to hold,

And then when

reaching daybreak's silenced heights

I felt arrows pierce inside

Leaving me to plunge

to depths 

whose will was made 

to have my courage euthanized...

so many times

I’ve fallen

in an attempt to rest but for a while...

but see me rise though 

grieved and tired;

for I've been taught

to never tie myself to a ground

that can easily change into sinking sands,

to face the odds though death may be at hand

and its through all these things

I've lost all fear, all concerns,

and all cares.

For they are not allowed

into the place I seek,

where the earth

is indeed inhabited by the meek 

solidly built  

on hope’s outstretched hands

beckoning me to 

.My promised land.

 My Inspiration: Daybreak.

 

© KohylahPiper 2015

#32 Emptiness Is as Emptiness Does

courtesy: Wordpress Blog Random_Michelle

Emptiness is as emptiness does

that’s how you showed me

that somehow, in someway

in some instance,

someone emptied you of love.

Maybe

it was done

by using steady

perpetual care

that diminished your resolve

then abruptly ripped it away

like bolts of lightning

breaking holes

throughout the air

stealing the thunder of your

expectations

till it was confirmed

that there was nothing left

but your

silence…

going the distance

and setting fire

to your dwindling hopes

fanning the smoky flames

higher to ensure it engulfed

all of its remnants,

but;

I could be wrong…

You could just be

the grown version of

a trapped child

that never knew

what freedom meant

inside your home

or within the mind

of innocent

imaginative contentment

A child;

who got used to being

rejected so many times

at the mercy of

some weak person’s

shallow thrills

that rejection is

the only gift descriptive

of the type of love you

know how to sufficiently give…

Contorted but true

to your heart’s twisted rules

that teetered near revealing emotions

and losing control

of the fragility

that lies stuck at the base

of what really is your

debilitated version of truth;

that confuses lust with trust

and grief with joy

struggling to understand

the consequences

between each spectrum

secretly hoping

to find someone,

anyone

to give you simple kind care

and loving attention,

unlike the kind you seem

to incessantly seek

as justification from others

that you are worth the time

and the devotion.

I could be wrong…

But this is what you felt like

many times to me,

like someone who would desperately

settle for even a glimpse

of genuinity,

in between the pieces of your

mournful rage

that overturns furniture

and tears reminders

out of picture frames

and leaves her colourful petals

flaking,

oxidizing gently

under internal loneliness

and unrequited self-love…

I could be wrong,

but I perceive you know that I’m not,

because emptiness is as emptiness does.

My Inspiration: A Chance Meeting & Photo Prompt by Random_Michelle 

 

© KohylahPiper 2015