By Mirabeau
Date: 29 March 2001
The Stumbling of a Heart
Guess I am just a woman after all,
with all the warts and fears.
Funny, I never counted myself
as one of the soap opera crowd,
until I began living one
that is either karmic revenge,
or cosmic comedy,
depending on the day.
Trust...yes, I understand the notion.
And we both know that doubt is a killer bitch,
just like lonely to an empty bed.
And I was fine---
and all of a sudden
everything I ever wished to say,
but didn't,
is whispering in my ear like evil sprites
and your quiet gives them the chance.
You ask me what you can do
to ease the barbed wire vice
that has seized my heart fast,
and hobbled my every step,
and the answer is both everything and nothing.
The raw, the hurting, the orange lodged in my throat
that twists with every silent tear
and I whisper "Please---just love me."
Like a prayer from a dying woman's lips.
I did not ache like this
when I had no hope, no dreams---
no you to lose.
And now the fear sits on my chest
and bites me with frozen teeth,
seeking purchase---possession.
You can only do so much.
I must quiet the banshees in my heart,
free my own legs,
learn to stand, walk, run
all by myself,
and pray that you are there
when I have grown enough
to be my own woman.
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