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46

My hands are cold, too cold 
the wind burning my nose, 
as it pushes me across the road,
hitting me with the reality
that I'm not there where the sun is

Numbers jump out at me
Splashing my face
with their significance
Buses meeting trains and hotel rooms

...you never did leave, did you?

It was I who left

Hours, numbers 
Days, years
A decade and 3 years
and this is the first
but hopefully the last

Magnified void that clenches me

I get lost most times
but those numbers again,
Always coming up to remind me...

reflective tears 
as the clock ticks past
to the past

and I am left with my hands on 
my face and the clock's face

Trembling fingers touching keys

Chilled by so many reasons--
Emptied by the sighing seasons

I remind myself to smile, 
amidst these blurry letters

Your laughter
resonating in my heart

Never leaving me

05062017151a226

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Date: 10/19/2017 10:32:00 PM
but there's much of the same in this piece of yours ... just gorgeous! Blessings - sorry I got a bit carried away, lol, (and I apologize for having to post in so many parts - the limited character count requires it). Keep up the great work, my friend! :-) <3
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Date: 10/19/2017 10:31:00 PM
away here, but this wonderfully intelligent and eloquent write took me to those places and more, and I personally enjoy hearing from folks when they've been affected in an unusual way by a work of mine, so I try to convey that to others when it happens to me. I write a lot of dark poetry of late, because I have found so much healing and catharsis in visiting ugly or painful places in my spirit/mind, and turning them to something creative and beautiful ... a poem. Many people don't grasp that,
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Date: 10/19/2017 10:30:00 PM
the PROOF of the depth and preciousness of love - the deeper we love, the greater the pain when we lose it, and love ALWAYS comes with loss, of one kind or another, so the pain is ALSO precious, both as the exquisite payment for love, and the residue and reminder of just how valuable love is - heartache really is like gold that we carry in our pockets, and we take it out and shine it when we remember how wonderful that love was - how dear. Does that make sense? Hope I'm not getting carried
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Date: 10/19/2017 10:29:00 PM
have more power over us than they're entitled ... I have also spent much time abusing myself, and creating wounds in a way that leaves no room for healing. The cool thing is that we can transform almost ANYthing within our hearts and souls and minds, and turn those scars into something very beautiful and meaningful ... at least that's how I've learned to get beyond much of the hurt and pain of relationships and life. I have also learned to embrace heartache and the pain of loss by seeing it as
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Date: 10/19/2017 10:28:00 PM
I really enjoyed this, Kabuteng, (that is much more beautiful than "monster"), and found my mind going in a number of directions, (which is what I find most compelling in any kind of writing, (and why I sometimes leave out punctuation - so people will interpret differently). I find numbers very compelling, and when my OCD was bad, they ruled my life, (though I have victory over that now). Wounds are a fluid thing, I've found, and many of the deepest ones we create ourselves by letting others
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Date: 5/22/2017 6:47:00 PM
gosh I was thinking of those whom you lost in your life. But the 46 years does not coincide with those things since you are still so young. THis makes me want to know what you were referring to. I really enjoyed the images though. especially the part about "my hands on my face and the clock face" tying those two ideas together.
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kabuteng P.iNk k.
Date: 5/23/2017 4:10:00 PM
Thanks for reading this, Andrea :) I'm glad you enjoyed the images and that's really neat how you liked that line-- I was actually a bit iffy on that.. But left it there, since it eventually grew on me. Still have to reply to your email, will do so in a bit ;). My sleep cycle is still so weird, urggh, woke up 3-ish, good luck to me later.