Her Story Unread

writing with love

Killing Me November 23, 2011

Filed under: poetry — Within Grace @ 11:46 pm
Tags: , , , , , , ,

On this, day number two, anxiety overwhelms,
her spirit abandons its peaceful existence,
succumbs to painful despair.
When she can’t smile, she needs.
It isn’t fair or cause for health.

 

Realizing she has no one,
suicidal thoughts flood,
fills her mind so great,
bursts out through her eyes, nose, and mouth.
This heart aches in every shade of blue.

 

When she can’t quiet anxious thoughts,
she turns off the only connection she has to feel.
Lays in her bed
alone,
room for merely one.

 

If her legs were stronger
than the dark that paralyzes, she’d run;
take one last look,
forget all she has ever known,
and run into emptiness;

 

away from guilt,
mistakes, and
broken forevers.
Start a life
without me.

 

© LRS 2011

 

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8 Responses to “Killing Me”

  1. Steve Says:

    Dark days – tough when the sun stays behind the clouds – strengthen the soul – build a better person – if you can bare to step outside – the clouds will disperse – and let a single ray of sun through – the rays of sun will increase – day by day – sending wishes and smiles 🙂

    • Reese Says:

      and so often, Steve, you share that ray of sun. rebuilding is difficult, but i trust it will have been so worth it. in the meantime, thank you for your friendship and smiles!

  2. Jeff Says:

    Though I am not there to touch you, I am here to feel you.

    You have composed a poignant, tender piece . . . your words convey deep emotion.

    You must write more for there are those who wish to hear you. We all yearn to love one who knows such tenderness, to delight in one so gifted with her words, too know and to feel the warmth of thoughts you convey.

    • Reese Says:

      Jeff, knowing my words reach beyond the distance and/or barriers between us, gives me strength, hope, inspiration to write until my heart is numb. you have been such an amazing source of encouragement and i am quite grateful for that.

  3. She shares my heart. This is so stunningly immaculate. How it reaches the very core of my being and grips my heart with a deep empathy. This dread she faces feels so much like my own, and I am thankful to have the words to drink, though I do not cherish the pain.

  4. ēςkǻyǻi Says:

    “If her legs were stronger
    than the dark that paralyzes, she’d run;”

    amazing.


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