The Things We Keep Hidden
A man sits alone
Lacking forgiveness
From a God he considers cold
Because of self-defense
He cries out for a soul that he thinks has died.
She stands idle and wonders why
All these years have gone by
Many without a sign
Of what she should be
Doing with her life
Inside she is sinking
Tired of never-ending thinking
All because he wouldn’t give her the time
She shone bright, child of light
Til someone evil
Did harm
Then she couldn’t stop
Putting a needle in her arm
Reality too much to stand
She wrested her hand from mine
And said, “bon voyage.”
Someone is struggling
Demons, they’re all around.
That bottle you consumed last night
That ugly fight
The one you grabbed and used to hit your wife?
Doesn’t matter if you meant it
What are you doing with your life?
What is worse?
Anger, hatred or despair? Incomprehensible demoralization…
Self-Fear.
Blackout night
Morning bright.
Bleak haze.
Her world spinning fast.
Everything done, said, hellish lag…
Filled in gaps.
“Someone shoot me. I can’t go on,” she calls out with dismay.
So she found another way.
Alone again
Years gone by
Wrestled. Battle-worn but not defeated.
This heart does not die out.
Strong. Yes.
Cautious.
Filed under: Love, Poetry, Writing Tagged: addiction, God, human nature, innocence lost, love, poetry, relationships, struggle, things we hide, Violet Yates
