Sunday, 30 October 2011

Seven

It is not an easy operation.
Removing myself from me.
I lie in the bed.
Bleached and dirty.
Sheets aching upon my skin.
I look at the clock.
Counting down.
Twenty three.
Six.
One hour. Two.
Seven jumps out of line. Punches me.
A story never to be told.
That I will never tell.
I lie awake.
Look at the clock.
Wish that the numbers would stop.
That home would become again.
At 2 am I follow the green.
In the back of my eyes. Shiny.
An Emerald City.
The sadness echoes in my stomach.
Time is falling back.
Moving on.
Every second drags me further away.
From home.
From me.
My time will remain ahead of me.
iamlosingeverytingiamlosingeverything.
I look at my foot.
The purple and black line that rests there so persistently.
So easily.
A track. A trace.
A certain line back to me.
A road that never fades from me.
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22 comments:

  1. Old Egg30 October 2011 at 03:37

    There are always little clues like the purple and black line that remind you who you are. These clues are your way home. It is good to have a secret world you can share that keeps you really you! Hold on tight because I will.

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  2. Linda Jacobs30 October 2011 at 03:57

    Your poetry just keeps getting better and better! Crisp lines. Understandable metapohrs. Images that zing. Hope your writing is an indication of your condition and that your words will lead you back to yourself!

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  3. indiwriter30 October 2011 at 04:35

    Enjoyed it. Liked the concept.

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  4. Mary30 October 2011 at 06:13

    Sometimes in the middle of the night, the numbers never stop, though one wishes them too. Jaerose, your poem ends with a note of hope. And I hope that you are on your way back to yourself, back home.

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  5. Understanding Alice30 October 2011 at 07:04

    poignant as ever, Jaerose :)

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  6. Jae Rose30 October 2011 at 07:17

    Thank you OldEgg..much appreciated..

    Thank you Linda..I like the thought of being zingy..

    Thanks for stopping by indiwriter..

    Three clicks of the heels..or a long six months..thanks Mary..

    Thanks Alice..good to have you back at Sunday Scribblings..

    Jae

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  7. Unknown30 October 2011 at 07:46

    This writing simply must offer catharsis, otherwise it would not, could not, be so powerful and energy-filled. You are achieving much in a relatively short time, Jae.; but of course, the key word there is relative, isn't it? Keep it up, Jae, keep it up. Your skills, your gifts, your self are blossoming.

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  8. Anonymous30 October 2011 at 07:49

    I am in awe of your talent! Such raw, yet poignant feelings you express! Thank you for sharing this with us.

    noexcuses

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  9. Anonymous30 October 2011 at 09:30

    removing myself from me is very sad. sometimes one can feel as if all of one's problems are because one is the way one is.

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  10. Nanka30 October 2011 at 10:23

    There is so much happening all at one time!! There are memories, there is dismay, fear and finally hope!! It ends with much hope as the wide road ahead is clearing!!
    Wish you always the very best!!

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  11. Ann (bunnygirl)30 October 2011 at 15:29

    I like the idea of an operation that separates oneself from that troublesome "me." We have to keep finding those little things, those little purple lines, that pull us back to who we really are.

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  12. Dee Martin30 October 2011 at 17:49

    first, I want to make sure that the black and purple line really IS metaphor and that you aren't really injured?
    I thought of nights when I couldn't sleep and watched the luminous green numbers on the digital clock...how every worry seemed magnified. I pray that is what was happening to you and that the light of day was better.

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  13. Maude Lynn30 October 2011 at 18:53

    Gorgeous writing.

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  14. Jae Rose31 October 2011 at 03:14

    Thank you Kim..there are three heads on the white rose bush now..a little trinity to hold on yard time..

    Thank you noexcuses..and for following..

    Indeed..thank you zongrik..

    Thanks you..as always..Nanka..

    Yes Ann..thank you..purple lines can be comforting to hold onto..

    I am safe Dee..no worries on that one..no reckless flossing or use of anything more rigid than a balloon here..it's an old line..from home..an old bruise..that lingers..it seems permanent somehow...concentrating on it de-scarifies the magnification of each day here..thank you

    Thank you MamaZen..

    Jae

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  15. Laurie Kolp31 October 2011 at 04:44

    Jae- As always, powerful and real. Keep on hanging on.

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  16. glnroz31 October 2011 at 07:19

    do you have any idea of the talent you hold? well, your hands are full.

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  17. Daydreamertoo1 November 2011 at 10:27

    So much to read, between the lines. One day you may tell what the number seven really signifies. One day.
    Somehow, no matter how fragile, you always keep a hold onto reality, no matter how difficult it is to do. I don't think anyone who reads you doesn't feel your pain/anguish and wishes you well and to be happy and fulfilled in your life.
    As always, an amazing write again.

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  18. Jae Rose1 November 2011 at 11:14

    Thank you Laurie..as always..

    My hands feel so empty..idle..a few letters dispensed on Wednesday and Sunday..thank you Glenn..

    Thank you Daydreamer..again..and much-ly..

    Jae

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  19. Rex Venom2 November 2011 at 03:52

    Sharp and guiding.
    I want to see where it all might lead
    And where it came from.
    Rock on!

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  20. Jae Rose2 November 2011 at 07:15

    Thanks Rex..rocking on..Jae

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  21. Abigail Bunting2 November 2011 at 14:51

    "It is not an easy operation.
    Removing myself from me.
    I lie in the bed.
    Bleached and dirty.
    Sheets aching upon my skin."

    Some days, everything aches, including the strange bird that is inside us, that makes up who we are. But we will get out of bed and back on that road, the better for having rested.

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  22. Jae Rose5 November 2011 at 06:53

    What a lovely thought..thanks Abigail..a lovely bird's nest to sleep in..that would be nice..Jae :)

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