I sit alone
Still
Listening to the world around me
Praying for silence
As I hear
The quiet shrieking of the house
As its old bones grind against each other
I, in turn, grind my teeth
And taste blood
As I bite my tongue
Afraid this despairing house
Might devour me
There’s hope if I walk out the door
And face all the tears
Of a world that hurts from many wounds
Wounds that I can heal
With a heart that cannot break.
excellent write, carrie; thanks for sharing! well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, your tx. friend, karen lynn. :D
Reviewed by M. B. (Reader)
Reviewed on February 4, 2005
Your ending attests to youthful resilience which I hope stands you in good stead for a long time to come. *I Sit Alone* is a well crafted piece that flows smoothly when read aloud. :)
Old houses and being alone always seem to be a recipe for looking back and rflecting on our lifes. You covered this lost love so eloquenttly in this poem. Well done.
Share
Print
Save
Follow
(((HUGS))) and love, your tx. friend, karen lynn. :D
Hugs,
Felix