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April 8th.

At long last,
I can breathe.
Fill my lungs
with hope
with exuberance
with fresh optimism
Enough of
the incessant reminders
No more
of her suffocating grief
I exhale
only contentment
Breathe only
a sigh of relief

At long last,
I can think.
Open my mind
for creativity
for revelation
for honest expression
Free from
the condescending paralysis
Away from
her sickening superiority
I speak volumes
only for myself
Think clearly
as sole authority

A long last,
I can look.
Cast my glance
to tomorrow
to possibilities

to cloudless horizons
See beyond
the judgemental glare
See past
her irrational ways
I focus
only to the future
Look forward
to my everydays


At long last,

I can breathe.

At long last,
I can think.

At long last,
I see.

At long last…
just be


 

 

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Discretion

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Stopped instantly in your tracks.
Waves of shock and then disbelief.

Her picture right there for all to see
The headline, as plain as can be
Words that strike at your very core
Shaken by the thought of reading more
You dare to look, despite the knowing
Helpless to keep it all from showing
Putting your back against the wall
Needing support as your barriers fall

Because now,
you are weakened by what you’ve read,
and you can’t move ahead.


Staggered by this second-hand news.

An instantaneous jolt of clarity. 

Taken directly to a time and a place

Flashing back, to that perfect face
A playful smile you will never forget
The honest heart of your last regret
An ideal situation, some would say
Judged yourself and you walked away
A circumstance you left behind
Rarely ever crossing your mind

Until now.
You are taken aback by what you’ve heard,
but you can’t say a word.


Inhibited by the same weight of discretion.

Just as private as it was back then.

Age, and then distance, were both too far
You sullenly
remove your suit from the car
Knowing what no one else needs to know
That it’s far more respectful not to go
Keeping your distance is probably best
Questions to avoid in the eyes of the rest
Despite yourself, you know what to do
Closure is for the family, not for you

For now.
 You are constrained by the reasons why,
 so you cannot say good-bye.

 

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A peculiar sensation of personal loss.
Over someone and something that you let go.

Finding yourself alone with your despair

Few who could really understand or care
Absolutely no shame in what you feel

Convenient secrets, you chose to conceal
Fleeting memories, you fought to dismiss
Coming around, when it comes to this
A conscious grip on things back then
You have to confront those choices again

But now,
you need time and space with what you know.
 Because you have to let her go…
again.

 

STORIES

70-Photographic_Camera_Lenses

STORIES


Let’s talk about “ this one thing that happened”.

We all have our stories
and they are shaped
by how we tell them.

Truth, and fiction

Resonant, and relevant

Memory and interpretation

We say what we filter
and we reveal our view
by what we’ve chosen.

Anything, or everything

Reserve, and unburden

Shame and pride

We turn the camera around
and tighten the focus
by pointing it at ourselves.

Observe, and record

Comment, and document

Impulse and exploration

We learn about the possibilities
and everyone plays a role
by being part of the story.

Expose, and suppose

Infusion, and confusion

Tact and responsibility

We leave scrutiny out there
and open for discussion
by inviting judgement.

Audience, and storyteller

Perceive, and deceive

Truth and fiction.

 

All about “ this one thing that happened”.

 

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