Publication Rag

PUBLICATION RAG Papers hadn't held her words For twenty years or more But ‘published’ didn’t scare her words were sizzle branded in her core-- Past the corner soul that hides The little suffering blueblack fears The place within the fears That hides the insubstantial tears There ragged brands had healed From raging blood to shiny scars Blood-- now cold-- congealed As graceful life was wrenched apart Thus, publishing and some such triggered not an ounce of fright far worse black filthy dreads that danced ablaze in burnt-out lights So publish me, Be done with me-- she mused as on she walked-- Better to be done with it-- May end the verbiage stalk. And though she knew Would never end The words that came in streams Was truly voice of true heart friend That called her in her dreams And deep she knew she had no wish To end her lifelong song-- But not to share a single word Seemed selfish--deadly wrong.