For What I Am...

For What I Am...

Crack the shade that holds in the darkness... Swing them open and take a peek through my window. Behind these shades and through my window lies a pulse. One that beats progressively more in times of contentment, But moves as a trapped thing when love threatens to bind it. Through the window, cries a past too surreal for complex words, And confidential psychoanalysis. Hidden somewhere in the corner adjacent that window, are fears that yearn to be confronted, but coward like a child in the dark, Being touched by familiar hands, and hurried breaths. In the closest opposite that window dwells secrets too shameful to be Place like a potted plant on that sill. No...these secrets of shame shall Forever lurk there and nowhere else But there is light pouring through this window, and its source is this soul. A soul tried and refined in the fire and became a precious treasure to others. This soul is the center piece of this table with its fine linens and memories of a youthful past. See the soul... For in doing so, the pulse will quicken in joy... The past will be a healing scar... And the secrets will be nothing but a forgotten tale in the night, just before slumber.

Author's Note

I wrote this for a contest that prompted that I write who I am...this was the best I could do...I simply hate describing myself, but sometimes our best masterpeice is manefested outside the box and far away from our comfort zone...hoped you enjoy

Reviews

[Jarrett]

Wow... I just read your piece "sick" and then moved to this... talk about a jump in perspective.
This piece is simply outstanding in its essence, and has so many layers that I imagine I will find something different with each reading.
Quite a rage for writing you have; a talent that speaks for itself with a stentorian voice.

[Luthien of the Woods]

Beautiful...moving and alive. This is "transformation" facilitated...