I read a new blog today that caught my attention and this poem is what came to mind after I digested the writers words a bit. It's different for my writings; don't know whether or not I like this one, but I'm sure you guys will let me know what you think.
Either way, the poem is how the writer of the new blog feels- at least I think this is how they are feeling. Their posts had such a deep melancholy to it- like they were wading in water too deep for them to swim in, yet they were managing to keep afloat. Almost like they hadn't quite given up on Hope just yet.
I hope that they keep holding on to that little bit of hope.
I'm feeling a bit undone,
unraveled- letting out and letting in
at the same time.
I want to wrap me back up,
and yet I like the freer movements,
without my own constrictions;
or those imposed by others.
Choices, there are always choices.
Some pulled out of desire, some out of comfort,
and some because the choice is so dear to the heart-
it hurts to think of not chosing it.
And each one I examine carefully;
they lay there in front of me,
tearing me apart.
Birds without wings,
eyes without sight,
a mind without fear
can become a comfort of sorts
Decisions, there are always decisions.
Some born of frustrations, some of anothers hand,
and some of freedom born within the instance
it was understood that freedom could be had.
And each one weighs and pulls in opposite
directions. Each tossed or held
as fragments of my humanity fell apart.
Let me lay, just let me lay still
in the darkness of my night.
Let me not think on what, how,
But let me love without saying
what's wrong or what's right.