Do I Give In

Posted on by randomwordbyruth

I am exhausted from exhaustion

My mind is a fishbowl with too many inhabitants

Do I give in and enjoy a lazy lane

Drape my weary and swollen toes in the icy waters of autumn

I have shed so many diseased tears over an empty couch

so many fears over the days I could embrace

The chills that swaddled from summer’s heat

Friends and fiction and my permenent host

I am exhausted from exhaustion

There is hesitation to my mornings

Disdain for golden leaves falling distant dreams

Normal is not quite what it seems

#longhauler

Don’t Panic

Posted on by randomwordbyruth

To me…there is the possibility of

fear…

fear of what is known

fear of the unknown.

To me…there is the possibility of…

strange thoughts submerged in routine.

Always an angst devil looking over my shoulder…misinterpreting what I mean.

A heart so full it reaches into the throat.

Tranquility resides nearby…but never takes off her coat.

Panic, panic, say what?

Don’t panic, don’t panic…

the only words that I can breathe.

I look inward to a wild rose bush with thorns…

the beauty does not relieve.

Illness

Posted on by randomwordbyruth

She stared directly into the sun!  Soon thereafter, she fell ill for a brief period of time.  This illness…to her, abstract…obscure.  Difficult to witness.  Hard to bear.  

And, though I struggled with my own sense of reality!

Pain is pain.  

Pain is never done.

In my own reality…’who had I been to judge?’

 

Edie

Posted on by randomwordbyruth

Despondency has been set before my eyes.

As if placed forever.

As if, I wished to cry.

If I were to step away and come back…

Tears would have held the same appeal.

And, a simple thought,

‘No reprise for the meek.  Nor the rich.  Just a cynical attempt at the god’s wishing us to feel!’imageedit_9_9125653281

 

The Obscurity of Trees

Posted on by randomwordbyruth

Minus pride,

I gaze upward.

Toward the elusive static that are the fingers of torment.

Arrogant are the attempts to see the obscurities for what…they are.

Nothing but mere intensely formidable, live-in scars.

And, I?

I am nothing but the wick to the flame…burning ever so bright.

Eternally adjusting the delicate balance.

That is my willingness to fight.

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The ache needs me for a lifetime.  The will to fight?  It only needs me for today!