I've not written poetry in a very long time, but something hit me inside just right that day, and the result is as follows. Enjoy.
Pieces
I am pieces
I am part
I am whole.
There is a core in me.
Strong
Steady
Firm
Surrounded by ethereal love.
Whisps blow around me
Surround me.
I walk the path laid before me.
I reach
I touch
I am touched in return.
I am taken.
Piece by piece.
Little by little.
Every little whisp soon disappears.
I have my center
That keeps me strong.
No.
That keeps me going.
No.
That's me.
The essence of me.
With no more whisps
What is there to take?
But they do.
They hammer and pound and tear and break
little pieces at a time.
So I won't notice.
So I won't see
What they do to me.
My whisps are gone.
My core grows weaker
And still they demand
"More!"
like I'm never-ending.
like I can go forever and still give
as I did at the beginning.
I want to hide.
I want to run away.
If only for a little while.
I need to rebuild--if it's even possible--
I need to strengthen.
I want to regain my whisps--if it's even possible--
I want my me back.
I want my me back.
~ (c) Ayla Ruse
Top image from fotolia © Stéphane Bidouze
Bottom image from fotolia © Okssi
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