This sensation is growing inside me. It's absolutly unerving. The boiling arisal of nothing is empty yet returning. Returning without a witness found to see that I am hurting. Only I can know what's here. I alone am burning. The mellow calm I render quietly to the sudden lack of loving. In this moment I clutch my fists and fight the monster coming. I close him off- my internal steampipe from giving my disguise. For all to behold.....nothing at all but the glazing of my eyes.
Well...when I originally posted this little piece 'o work, only a couple of people read it and we have a whole crew of new poeple here. Just recently, this poem was selected for publication and earned me a spot as a judge in a national poetry competition on the 20th. I just wanted to re-share it with ya'll...thnx.
"Time is the matter, and in a matter of that all wounds will heal and all scars shall fade."
Member Rara Avis
Realm of Supernatural