I am outside
But I am locked in
Sullen
Like the rocks in my pockets
Holding me down
Keeping me moving
Dragging my feet
Drenched in time
In space
One step forward
Two steps back
A body raked over pins and filthy floors
I wish for the comfort of the bench
The love of powder
So clean
So bright
It is all of me
All of me that I trust
My lips are bruised with wasted time
Wasted words
My silence
My life
Waits amidst the thorns
waiting waiting like a station of the cross
I walk by
Do not look into the eyes of the deceivers
The ones that planted the rocks
Breath itself is a punch so brutal
When I cannot reach that thing I need
When I cannot be me
I sink inside
I disappear
I think I think
that
I have seen enough time pass.
I am outside
But I am locked in.
18 comments:
you have the key...:)
again jaeRose, you bring me inward - I can
"my lips are bruised with wasted time" -O.
I can feel the slight heartbeat of one who is
being held down and back by society
heart wrenching -you write from your soul
it's so hard to expose the real you and not be worried you'll be trampled.
Very powerful emotions in this piece.
Of course you are outside, you are with us... living and writing and laughing and crying with and at the world in your words. Your writing allows us to share that pain. Look at all those hands reaching out to help you get back in our world.
The repetition of the first two lines as the last two is a powerful device, Jae, that feels like a lifeline after the rapid-eddy pace of the body of the piece.
Rocks in the pockets, ala Anne Sexton, is a clever reference to state of mind with a twist in meaning when you refer to those who placed the rocks. That was a "wait a minute" moment for me as a reader.
As this series progressed, I thought the desire for the powder might decrease. It hasn't seemed to do so. I wonder if future pieces could talk about living with, maneuvering around, the desire without giving in to it?
That would be an interesting plot twist!
Feeling the sense of locked in, rocks in my pockets now. Your poem really brought my feelings into context.
Jae, HERE your words are not wasted. Here you are not silent. We hear you and hold out hands of hope.
As always there are so many little details that say so much. I especially like the lips bruised with wasted time and the deceivers that planted the rocks. I wonder how many of us relate to that but don't dare say so?
Such detail in this, such despair. I love it.
Thank you all..so..fingers dragging on keyboard..I appreciate every hand and balloon to lift the rocks up from my pockets..thankyouthankyou..Jae
"My lips are bruised with wasted time"
- Powerful writing Jae.
x
Thank you Susannah..Jae x
We are all prisoners in our world as much as we are all the guards of the prison, too. We all hold the key that unlocks the door, eventually. It depends on whether we are ready in our minds to shift from the comfort of the 'known' no matter how dreadful it is, to the total fear and uncertainty of the fearful, unknown but, without taking that one small step, we will never know if that step that we so feared wasn't such a scary place to step to in the first place.
Progress Jae, you think, you write, you share and, your talent, your struggle to overcome and your courage to share here, (whether or not you do in your r/l) is undeniable.
Keep on keeping on Jae. Life will not always be so harsh on you because, I feel, you will want to stop what is and make a new life for the Jae who will one day be so well known for her gift of writing and, maybe through that love of writing in time, she then may turn it all around into trying to help others just like herself.
"My lips are bruised with wasted time".
What a beautiful, beautiful line. It will stay with me for days.
Don't ever stop writing.
Thank you DayDreamer..so very much..
Thank you also Marita..
And sorry to all that I haven't got back to your posts yet..I will..
Jae
Dear Jae I must have missed this one. I am under the bush as I read your words. I cannot say, time slips bye, the sand slides out and crashes to the floor. You continue beautifully, and you express what is difficult... hopefully it will not always be so, or maybe like medicine if it doesn't taste bad, maybe it is no good. So we hold what is difficult as precious, maybe it helps us know where we are? Who we are and who we are not? You are strong, it is in your words, beautiful words in the brown book! You drop them, to mark the path...so hard to know what is inside and what is outside. Thank you Jae, for your words...xoxoxoxoxo
Thank you Annell - and for yours too..Jae x
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