Oct. 17th, 2008

cosette_valjean: (Default)
I can feel the tugging.
Nimble fingers of the sun
Pluck pluck pluck the scabs
That cover my wounded heart.

Why must I be soft again?
Surely that leads to pain.
Perhaps it is merely chemicals
That thrusts beauty in my face.

Perhaps my body can not help
But notice once again
The rhythm and chords
Of my favorites songs.

Perhaps I can not help
But feel the silver moonlight
Reflecting off my heart
As if it held no shadows.

Even the old familiar way,
That slanted skewed way,
Of viewing the world workings
Has tried to creep back.

But I'm more hardened to that
I deny its former glory
I shun its former power
I shatter its hold over me.

"What if" it shall remain.
No solid acknowledgment.
No constant scrutiny.
I will not be its domain.

This chapter is closed.
I begin life again.
With my golden pen
I will start another.

Emptiness and folly
Beauty and hope
Love in all its forms
I am a swirling mass of chaos.

Apparently my twisted heart
And my malformed brain
Can not help but see light
Even while wallowing in the dark.

It seems I am forced to see
Both the light and the dark,
The ecstasy and the horror,
The disgusting and the divine.

I am a lens.
Light and dark
Flood through me
Spilling around.

If I shape myself
In just the right way
Hardened here, softened there
Perhaps I can make rainbows.

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cosette_valjean

August 2009

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