Blues

In a world of chaos

Some are choosing their blues

The big ones, the little ones

And they ponder in recluse

So be wary and considerate

That you know not their fate

For some have slept

Only to wake and walk

Walking, but not existing

For some have dreamt

A thousand dreams, yet still sulk

Moping in misery

And for some, they are hoping

For a glimpse of a miracle

Hands clasped tightly

As they mumble prayers of petition

And as for the writer,

She cries out for reassurance

Tonight, feeling weighted more

By the littlest of blues

I Should Go

My eyes must unsee
False hope and regret.
Before we lose our sanity
I should go…

My hands must unlock your grip
Know a freedom of their own.
Before we pull back into embrace
I should go…

My body must unlearn
A home it once knew.
Before we cross the line
I should go…

Have I Settled

He’s in the shower
I sit at the nightstand
Wiping off lip rouge
Taking off my dainty pearls

The moon appears
And I can hear the wind whistling
For a moment I’m fixated in a distant past
Remembering vividly, the tryst, that tryst

A common visitor, this curiosity
Mere seconds only,
I cannot help but ask…
‘Have I settled?’

If

If I knew,
That my goodbye would be stolen,
By the silence that is
I never would have been your friend

If I saw,
You treat me as an outcast
Like I was an easy page to turn
I never would have looked at you twice

And if I envisioned these tears,
Tears because of your doing,
That pelt my face every night
I never would have let you see my soul

The Violinist

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Will these strings betoken bravery?

Breathe, and then I play,

Will these chords console the lachrymose,
Weep not, but how can I?

Will this chorale tend scarred hearts?
A prayer to say, the rest to God.
Will the silence in this sanctuary cease to echo?
Oh how it speaks so loudly.

Will I play to turn back time?
Only so, with my eyes closed.
Will memories flood the hall and offer reassurance ?
My shaky fingers, they fret about this bow.
But I pray as I play.

These strings, my emotions they control,
Forgiveness is not a new thing
These chords, they heal
Closure is not a stranger.
The chorale, we sing in commemoration,
Heroes in our eyes, always .
The violinist, composed but visibly emotional,
Her violin, bespeaks the aftermath of 9/11.

RELAPSE

4/5

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Don’t want to talk

Don’t want to go to work

It’s one of those days, I can only sulk

My heart has me tied to an anchor

Ready to drown in her ocean of tears

And it’s you, You’re the cause of my relapse.

I’d rather sit and be lost in my thoughts

The good times, the regrets, the ‘What ifs’

Who knew silence could put on a show worthy of applause

Come see my insides, see how I subtly grieve

But you and the world shouldn’t know,

That I’ve been hiding the hints of my sorrow

And it’s you, You’re the cause of my relapse.

How hard my lips work,

When all they want is to tremble, but force a smile instead

Loneliness steals my happiness, leaving me a wreck

And time, the anti-painkiller doesn’t make forgetting easy

I miss you, and I know it’s crazy

But every ounce of my body just wants you back

I relapse and you’re the cause.

Relapsing, I walk through a crowd, seeing no one

Voices everywhere, but all I hear is my heart crying

Eyes opened or closed, the only visual image is of you

Moving on seems like a myth now.

I’m relapsing, how will I pull through?

See previous posts leading to the above:

1.https://bowendiaries.wordpress.com/2013/09/07/the-other-woman/

2.https://bowendiaries.wordpress.com/2013/10/20/crying-marilyn/

3.https://bowendiaries.wordpress.com/2013/11/16/the-foreigner/