Lost somewhere in my long memory, I have felt the hands of Fate were looming nearby, moving with the shadows and ready to plunge me into despair with yet another twist or turn. A lump would rise in my throat and I would panic.
My core pulsing with adrenaline.
Sensitive and aware, I break apart into a massive army.
Gleaming, unstoppable and merciless. They are clothed in my aura and on the move. My sizable demons,
Their breath scented with my dead dreams,
Arrogantly hover but I no longer hide from them. They will not feast on my tender fears and get my hopes stuck in their teeth, they lick my sweat off their lips.
My once shaking hands clenched tightly,
Now still and certain. Every time I rise from falling,
They scream on agony.
I run through my work so that I could eek my way through my most treasured times,
Wringing out every drop of wonderful.
All this is so that my head lays flat on the pillow and isn’t propped up by regrets.
This time, I will not wait.
I will not be held captive by my damaged parts.
I will walk bravely through it all.
And every now and then, I’ll come up for air.
Julia Manuel on Poem #4 ingridfalconi on Poem #4 Julia Manuel on Poem #4