Collected Poems III

Crumpled between two hands,
How crisply did I fold –
A paper heart so fragile,
Worn thin and weak and old;
I felt my world collapsing,
Twisting down upon itself,
Compounded by compliance
With every blow I felt.

One last satisfying squeeze
Sent this tiny, brittle ball
Flying toward the trash can,
But instead bounced off the wall;
In a deep, dark corner
I finally came to rest,
To lay in quiet solitude,
Unwelcome memory of a mess.

My edges slowly uncurled
And filled up full with dust;
Forgotten and abandoned,
But I didn’t make a fuss;
I learned to love the silence,
Finding comfort on my own,
Making peace with demons,
Learning to be alone.

Something still remains inside,
A great mystery to find –
Something raw half-remembered,
A thing pure and unrefined;
So I wait here in the darkness,
And when the time is right,
Worthy hands will find and unfold me,
Bringing all my gifts to light.

See-Saw

Up and down,
With a center
Rooted firmly
In the ground,
You and I rise
And fall;
Coming together
All over again.

I am weary
Of this ride,
Fighting against
A turning tide;
You seem content
To carry on
Slipping, sliding
Into forever.

So I say; still
I must, one day,
Plant my feet,
Refuse to play,
Let you fall;
Only then
Can I rise up,
And walk away.

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