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By Galadrial Date: 2001 Oct 02 Comment on this Work [[2001.10.02.23.33.1287]] |
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I can hear your breath, shallow, rib sore as if you are afraid that one deep lungful will pierce you with a dagger of bone. You huddle to yourself, the world gone mad without fearing there will be no peace within to match the rain of fire you feel everwhere you look. I am here, hand extended softly, knowing better than to offer more, knowing the brittle taste that coats your tongue and taste like copper and old rust. I can be a place of quiet, where you leave your fears outside like muddied shoes. But you cannot be afraid of me, of who I am, or who you might be if your fingers close on mine. And if I am something you can hold til your center is found so much the better. Your heart of peace has not blown to pieces, no matter what you feel. And while i cannot make right the wrongs, or bind every cut, I can be the breathing room you are reaching for inside. |