CONFESSION for the heart
one who knows the pain
a sharp knife
— to the soul

All things I see and hear
whether touch or smell
is poetic
— to my ear

Life drives me maddingly so
the words slide off me tender
and into a skillet
— where they burn

Wish I do for a release
into a world from pain and fear
my soul mate come unto me
for I fear the time
— too late

:: 01-22-2014 ::