Vanishing 1
Like the dew so is the days that evaporates into non existences, and like it’s days so is the moment of truth that roles from the lips of a sweet lovers kiss, as is the brisk wind that covers me,
And in my thoughts is the hot contemplation of a hold that flames my soul, with nothing to remember I fall into a looking glass, reinventing my self again, watching me walk across this world of wonder,
What minute do I count, so that I may recognize it?
What hour do I reverse, so that I may forget the truth of a ending that creeps into my mind, concealing themselves against my mirror, as the window of my soul is yet not revealed,
And how do I not repeat them in the months to come,
As does the sun that sets in sixteen hours, and the moon and stars that covers the sky so is the indulgence of my life, that overwhelms my view of a ill fated dream, as the night mares are twenty four hours of my days,
A touch haunts me, as the emotionally thought of it’s meaning,
Love first, as is the need to shield it from the harm of my book, and the meaning of life that writes the novel of a woman’s horror, I alone fade away as does the mirror I look out upon,
Secrets whisper stories into my ear, and again I try to cover my ears so that they do not spill from my lips, like poison from a cobras bite, sipping into the blood stream of hate,
The soul is in the eyes, for the truth of the heart sees you for what you are, over and over again, I running into darkness, so that I may cover yourself from the vanishing of the soul, my soul,
My arms reach for cover, holding only this, is my out look, my force of self, so that I may learn to love, learn to give into the emotionally search of one, me
The acting of a precious role I play, life as I am the star, the director, hands clap as the ending is no ending it goes on and on, as to say keep the applause going another line will follow,
My hair stands up a smile beam from my lips, and the glitter of red carpets walks me on a path of more, like hunger, truth beats from this heart, as does the passion of a producers cut,
The curtains open and close so that I may take in it, a photographers flash, singing to myself I bow as my eyes view them it this,
And again the vanishings of me has concealed it’s in w write,
And on this page I follow a widow on a widows walk as the pacing back and forward have me waiting for the ship to shore love of a verse to come across my lips, with just a thought I write to please, play a note just to here it repeat itself again, with such soft melody,
Waves roar to my gender, my beauty , as I no longer haunt the mirror that holds me captive, but preview it’s head line of life, as a seeker I seek me to began again, and like the rain I come and I go just giving self a cause to need, a want of more,
Months pass and my hour glass sip a grain, a spec of here, a tease, a show of power, a smirk, with that I give a script, that rescues a damsel in distress, as the research route to it’s meaning, my play,
As I lay in this bed I see lies, the regret the story that wants to be told, I surprised myself with it’s truth it’s realty, it’s cause of a heart felt rape that was in my mind, my ache, as I again turned into the demon that pleaded within me,
I rapped me alone, it’s victim was of the life of fiction, that wrote my cries my vanishing of secrets, as the role play of another script called me to give my all as I put my heart and soul into a line,
I told of my own fairytale, my own pursuit of the truth that penned a need, a belief, and the all of a star that did not follow me, as did the ghost that circled my bed,
Try me I howled to the sky, to the shores, that covered me,
And I can could only say sand I was born sand I will be, as the words gave know meaning but to myself,
Vanishing I bleed for me, fought for my cause, I am a walker of the past and the future, as it only laughed at me, the pen did not write my lines as the healer of my heart did not play melodies of my song,
At this moment a deep feeling of loneliness surrounds me and the depth of my understanding does not translate itself to me, alone, I do not understand it’s meaning, it’s message is yet not revealed, and words of wisdom do not enter my mind,
I preach the word to a looking glass, and from that looking glass, peace does not comfort me, as it is again my soul vanishes into the abyss
I leave behind a paper trail of memory, of thoughts that are written down, of a voice that refuses to hear me, as I wait for an answer that does not divulge itself to me,
At this moment a deep feeling of loneliness surrounds me and the depth of my understanding does not translate itself to me,
Alone I do not understand it’s meaning, it’s message, is yet not revealed, and words of wisdom do not enter my mind
copyright deborah richards
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