The Catalyst ....Insanity
who
she has become
runs parallel
to whom
she would have been
if not for me.
I take the blows and accolades as one
knowing neither has the acid strength to etch the metal
of my skin.
I am her friend.
She knows me more than that
but titles don't exist for whatwho I am to her.
She dares at times to look me in my writhing eyes,
snakes recoil at her intense regard.
A closer dream
will sequence her in,
when she was ten
she held my hands ,
unclenching fists
of fettish and denial
a clever child,
she made a game of guessing
in which palm
the past was more insane
and which more calm,
she knows not who she really is today
the muses come and go and some do stay
but she excretes a fiery self regret
of what she did or didn't do and yet........
the tiny sapphires sifting from her soul
are worth as much as others who are whole.
Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2006
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