the palpable ironic state from there to here.
weary.
almost incapacitated in exhaustion.
eyes squinting, almost blind.
whatever it takes, I tell myself.
whatever it takes.
do you know how it feels to hold a heart in your hands?
i don't, actually.
i do not know.
or maybe... i do.
terrifying, i suppose.
somehow. here. now, i spilled tears from my soul
and showered the almost dead ground with nourishment
of life.
i whisper now:
dear ground, drink and feast on my offering.
i am almost at the brink of being a part of you,
as you are to me.
i stand still, almost immovable by any storm.
yet, inside of me a fragile little child lives.
breakable, still.
i wait.
patiently.
while i do whatever it takes.
one day, in silence, in the most solid state,
i will. be.
no one has to know.
but it will radiate through some kind of magic.
and there will be peace.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.