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Date Posted: 18:23:14 09/21/02 Sat
Author: the Lady
Subject: Bleeding


What happened to him you ask,
(when there are so many other questions...)
We just sort of drifted I suppose.
I realised that I just don't care so much.
It sounds so callous, and those around me give a nervous laugh,
as I cackle,
disbelieving that I'm neither phased nor bothered by it...

But they only know one me,
the woman who puts them first.
Who always works in creation,
to birth a place where someone needs me.

It doesn't help that I finally found love growing in my heart,
but not for him.
It is unfair to pretend I was so very interested,
when I knew in my heart it wasn't right.

Imagine that,
me listening to my heart...
there was a time when that wasn't out of the ordinary.
When that was all I did,
and She was a friend,
wild and beautiful and passionate,
that I was glad to know.
I lost touch with Her a while back,
never kept up conversations I knew I should have.
I drifted away into this void where I thought that less would be enough.

Now my body, so weak,
starves for her;
my soul cries "Find her once again!";
that piece of me
I thought I could do without.
The piece that was me.

I crave those moments when she swelled,
and I felt full,
complete,
awed.
Perhaps I am jaded,
or tainted,
deflowered,
and she can never come back to this ruin
which is supposed to be so sacred.

I am so lonely at this moment,
(as salt flows,)
so terrrified that I will never feel that flood of wonder...
I can taste it though,
like that night's final sip of wine,
the morning after,
both the bitter dregs and sweet fruit,
lingering so long.
That ghost of flavor though,
gives me hope.
If I can remember it,
perhaps I have not lost it altogether...
and then I look down at a pair of arms,
my own,
wrapped around a young neck
whose muscles can bear my weight;
or pale thin hands
holding my small and freckled ones
in a darkened theatre -
the shadows sight of near-black curls now gone;
or I see a pair of blue eyes in passing,
and they tell me years of stories in half a second,
and I know they hear from my grey
those same stories echoed thoughout lifetimes
that we've known one another.

There is a stabbing,
a sudden gush of awe,
which falls away like blood,
leaving me even more in need.

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