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Slow Down
-Slow down-
Even the sounds of
rushing red waters
pulsing...
drown out the beats
that blare in my head
- Slow Down -
My thoughts spin like a carousel of fervent beats,
while I watch the harbors of still waters,
a gentle surrender to time, drift away.
Every stride toward solace
meets the rush of a furious current
that demands to be heard.
BREATHE
They say.
But they don't offer oxygen.
What I breathe is not oxygen.
Its substance holds the burdens
of a thousand silver hearts,
multiplied by the mixture of red and blue,
each breath breathes a hue of purple horrors
that hold the millions of salted waters
dammed at the gates within the corners of my eyes -
flooded waters locked up behind walls armored with diamond rings-
where the clamor of the inner gale shouts louder than the silence,
and spring sings a name I cannot remember.
- SLOW DOWN -
One more time it calls.
One more time.
I reach for a pause in the relentless tide,
where hope hopes to reside
and symphonies play melodies
where tired souls dare to stay.
Maybe mine would dare
if it'd slow down.
Copyright ©
Rebecca Kiser
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