I was in a good place – body and mind.
Happy in moment, and looking forward.
But someone or other,
directly, or indirectly,
decided that I didn’t belong,
that I was an interloper in this good place,
that I didn’t matter.
…
Violate, desecrate, rip heart out and shatter!
…
The other hasn’t gained from my misery,
beyond hollow, morbid pleasure,
sufficient, alas, for human nature.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Another woman, another time and place,
another version of me,
I need to be free,
my soul seared,
constantly chased,
I try to flee.
… Her withering glare of contempt.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Something happened.
I did something in reply.
“Everyday” life.
Exhausted, again, I sleep.
Sleeping giant? (I can dream…)
Sleeping dog? (Best to let lie…)
Who can tell from the outside?
Perhaps tomorrow will help.
Regardless, better a live dog (even if sleeping),
than a dead lion.
(To be continued…)
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
The tap keeps dripping…
Relentless,
remorseless,
uncaring, it seems,
that with each additional drip,
it is stealing another piece of my life.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Desperately seeking security,
we embrace opportunities,
and perversities.
Deception we realize too late
as, gutted, we lie,
unmarked grave.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Sometimes you’ve had too much
(a gutful)
before you’ve even begun.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Every year it gets harder and harder to commemorate
the event,
not because *it* means less to me,
but rather as, the longer I live,
*everything* seems more and more meaningless.
… There is a difference.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
Nothing’s really changed,
but it sure feels like it,
now that I have seen,
perceived, experienced,
loss and death.
Sunshine fades,
pale memories.
©SvetkaSamizdat
…
