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Registered: 08-2012
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Sacred Places and To the One Who Is Coming

I'm posting a couple poems I wrote since being D&D'd by the N I was involved with earlier this year. The first poem is more recent, and deals with loneliness and emptiness of realizing that what I thought was the "One" was just a fraud. The second was right after the D&D and before I knew anything about NPD... I was still blaming myself, wanting him back, and so on.

Thanks for reading.

To the One Who Is Coming

Sometimes I think you hate me
Have picked me out for misery
Sometimes I think you’re not there at all
That only the spider in the corner
Hears my prayers.

What is one lonely soul in this great big city
One more, one less, who cares?
This city of love and loneliness
Meted out in complete randomness.

You gave me a heart and nothing to do with it
Bigger than the sky and just as empty
Though I can’t shake this notion that somewhere
Someone is longing for me like I long for him.
When we meet, though, I’ll say the wrong thing
Or we’ll love for a few months and I’ll get clingy
He’ll throw me away
Its okay for a woman to be dependent and needy
But not for a man.

Or maybe we’ll walk by each other
Eyes on the sidewalk, earphones in,
Sunglasses to hide our eyes, and we’ll
Never know who just walked by.

I have to believe that the sky is not just
An empty hole
That the universe doesn’t just whirl into nothing
That the bubbling brew of life does not
Just bubble for lack of better things to do
That loving hearts are made to love
And hands made to be held
Lips to be kissed
Arms to be rounded in a hug
Eyes gazed into and hands to cup cheeks
To smoothe hair.
I have to believe, what other choice is there?
Either God is nothing or everywhere,
No one can tell me, I must choose for myself.

On a train, on a bus, on a bike or a horse
On a skateboard or a camel or a pogo stick
Love is coming
On a rocket or a surfboard or a parachute or rollerskates
Running or crawling or jogging or dancing
Singing or crying or laughing or shouting
Sailing or flying or sliding or digging

(Yes, that’s it he is digging
A tunnel to me
No wonder I can’t see him
He's underground
Digging toward
My deeply buried

I believe, you will sit with me
With my deep deep rage
With my sadness and tears
You will put your arm around me while I cry
You will bravely face my fear, because I cannot
my trembling, my weakness and anger

And that other one, the false One
I know that I didn’t
like him that much, even though
I loved
That one. The one before, the arrogant
Asshole man, though I envied him I
Never really liked him, the alphas of the world
Seem to have it all, and yet
They crumble at a touch.
But I. I am made of stronger stuff
Strong mushy brittle stuff.

Sacred Places

When the thing I long for so deep in my soul
does not come forth, over and over it is nearly there
but it does not appear
how do I move forward?
When the person I want to hear
does not come, does not speak to me
does not call my name,
How do I rest?
When the longing of my heart
goes to one who does not return it
how do I not curse love and throw it aside?
If I wake one day to not think of him
what will I think about? When will I hear his voice
or will I never hear it? Will I never see his face again?
He who walked away from me
is there an answer
to still my tears?
These tears that flow without seeming to cease
these tears that should give way sometime to joy
but when? Tell me now. I want to know.
I drag my carcass through another day
and do not know why,
don’t know what I can expect to get but that I meet
a man who seems to be a companion
a lover and friend, a counselor and confidant, and yet
across our faces steals a darkness that I cannot
understand, the darkness of parting and loss and pain
unfulfilled longings, unhealed wounds, they darken the brief joy

and that night we played cards and I lost, and
somehow became quiet and sullen without meaning to,
then in the morning we argued, and you made me cry
but you walked away from my tears
left me unheld on my sofa.

Sorrow and loneliness are so often my lot
that I am not even sure what else there is.
If there is something else
oh gods show me its face,
the face that will not fade, that will not
turn away from me. Gods please
show it to me.

We went to the park and still
I could not feel, could not be there with you,
Shell-shocked as I was
if only you had reached out to me and held me
while I shed those bitter tears of past sorrows against your
broad chest, if only you had held me close to you
while I shed those tears that had been waiting
for years to fall.

Instead I shed them now alone
on my couch, you have turned your back,
and yet they need to be shed, with or without you
they have been waiting, you touched the latch,
you opened the gate of my heart for them
to flow out like a river that had been dammed.
And you were not brave enough
to stay with me, so I will weather this
rainy season in solitude,
I am a solitary warrior traveling
over wildernesses of the spirit,
through dark and solemn
sacred places alone,
where I commune with the echoes of the
vast empty spaces, the lonesome valleys, the abandoned temples,
the unbroken still lake where the moon is reflected,
like a king who has left his kingdom to seek truth,
I wander on alone, though I would rather be by your side, would
rather wander together, but I believe that I go
where you cannot follow. And you go where I
cannot go.

Last edited by luciddreamer75, Aug/13/2012, 11:39 am
Aug/13/2012, 11:29 am Link to this post  

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