Monday, August 9, 2010






It starts out slowly
like the drizzle
before a big storm
the kind with the
flashing of lights
so bright
they're blinding
and the booms of thunder
so deafening
you think your heart
may stop.
Suddenly it's a windstorm
of emotions and
preconceived notions
and I feel trapped
by your eyes and
in your arms.
To escape could mean
that I'm once again
running away
from all that is good.
Or it could mean
that I am dodging
a future bullet that
this time I may
not survive.
I walk a tight rope
swaying this way
and that.
This way is fearful
and trembling
and makes me
cry and unable
to breathe.
I fall that way
I fall in
and get the rush
of jumping, diving, rushing
in
completely in
And what am I afraid of?
I don't know


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