A double-edged sword is this, my love…
A weeping wound that will not mend -
No, your tears burn like caustic acid, leaving
A red, stinging trail along my pale, oh so pale, skin…

I am in need of healing, this is true ,
A psychological nightmare driven intensity -
This is me…my place in the universe,
A solitary burden no one can share…not even you.

Ask me to let it go, tell me to push it away…
No! I will tear it apart, I will see each piece,
Yes - each fragile, incongruent piece fall into place.
I will see it happen, or I will force it to happen.

When I understand the connections,
When I can live, breathe, and dream another reality,
I will use the pile of molding memories as a stairway,
Yes, and I will take each step higher and higher

Until my lips will graze your lips and not this cold, hard ground.

Dena L Moore
April 16, 2005