Alive

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 04, 2018

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Submitted: August 04, 2018

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Alive

 

Sometimes I see truth so clearly

that I question validity of all I see and feel.

When it is so curiously real; my way, my sight

It must be right. 

My liberty and vision

Build of indisputable gravels of gospel. 

But ever I, even I see cracks in Holy Truth.

 

Is it possible I’ve died, I’ve drowned?

That I’m under the ground

Existing in a well of my perceptions;

Swimming and soaring through this delicious concoction of me?

When you peer in my waters, what do you see?

What do you wish, from this well, from the stars?

 

“For this ache to go away,” I hear myself say. 

Then a whisper in my ear from

My shadow, ever near. 

 

“Daughter of stars and boughs and rocking trees, you are more than you know. 

You know not your worth, too beautiful for Earth.

And you should go.” 

 

I stare, desolate, in a dark lot.  Concealing a pocket pharmacy.

And suddenly I see through his eyes and am stabbed by loneliness of artificial light.

We both hear distant sirens

Tragic atmosphere of chatter and banter,

Swirling through beckoning wails of wind and waves.

And all we crave is peace of mind.

But it’s so hard when we are confronted with the most violent truth there is.

 

That nothing matters.

 

But I didn’t swallow the pills

And he didn’t jump.

Me and my shadows, he and his shades

Lived to breathe another day. 

Blessed with the curse of ending verse

And thoughts that never cease. 

Always on our knees and praying for release from bonds of knowing and feeling too much

Too much…

Pressure on a precious tender heart. 

And cursed with the blessing of messing with words.

“Words that aren’t ours,” we mumble and moan. 

Fated to never craft tongues of our own. 

 

And we do not fear falling, sweet shadow and shade. 

He didn’t tie the knot and

I didn’t drag the blade. 

Though sometimes life seems far too long, this is only a verse

Not the end of our song. 

 

They shut the door, they turned the key

But didn’t draw the breath

That would call the claws of death.

 

Without those who bleed, the world is not whole.

Without those who suffer, the world has no soul.

We bring color and light with gentle kisses

Reviving the Earth with beauty in our breath;

We conquered death to save you.

Took our shells from the grave to save you.

 

We bear the burden, the blessing, the curse

Of shadows and shades and of unending verse.

And truths that slice like river through rock,

Leaving gorges and gouges of pain. 

It’s little wonder we’re insane, but we’re alive.  We’re alive.

In a world that is dying,

We’re alive. 


© Copyright 2018 Andromeda L. Dawson. All rights reserved.

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