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I feel so conflicted some days.

Sometimes I am awash of different emotions ensnared with grief, guilt and then numbness.

It steams my soul and I project anger like a flaming torch into the night sky.

I feel my throat tightening up and gasp for air to try to let out a scream, but nothing happens.

I fall to my knees now covered in a thick cloud strangling my neck.

My fists pound the soft earth, who always waits for me with opened arms and warmth.

Never does she reject.

Digging my fingernails

Clawing the wet skin, she doesn’t hate me for it.

She encourages me.

Bleed into me she says, I am becoming you to release that torturedness.

My face is wet with hot sweat and tears, lined with her own blood

Black, gritty, and smelling sweet.

I am spent

We lay together now, my tears come fully, flowing freely.

As I lay on my back in this ethereal state.

She whispers, it’s ok my darling this is what I’m here for. Close your eyes and fall back into my arms, for nothing can reach you now.

In my protected place.

Gently she caresses me into a soft lull.

Breathing quietly with the faint scent of her all over my face.

I’m gone into quiet peace, to gather my soul and start again.


Corbeau poetry shassyswalkabout ethereal


Her tiny fingers opened

To grasp the fresh new world

With innocence and delight.

Her grown up fingers waited

To only find a fight.

Her old fingers grew tired

Reaching for her plight.

Her withered fingers soon closed

As she gave in to the night. 

Her renewed fingers now filled

To see a brand new light.

She fought with all her power

All throughout her life.

She couldn’t find peace on earth

She tried with all her might. 

Now she flies with the wind

Free from pain and fright.

Her sorrow has left her

As she is filled with sweet delight.

No more tears are shed

As she has left this conflicting life.

Reunited now with the universe

No breath need be taken.

Her mind is free from shackles

And her soul has been awakened. 

She’s free to roam and found a home 

Without the scars that bind.

Her life was short with no retort

She did the best she could with no consort.

Her heart is no longer broken

As it was nothing but a token.

Her body gone to dust

A fleeting cusp

No longer to be woken. 

Blurry scenes behind the eyes.
Foggy feelings of..
“Are they true?”
Is the mind playing tricks?
Outside ticks
Fleeting rhyme
Falling trips
Reality slips
Clawing grips
Finally ending this clip
Replaying like a mime.
This haunt has ceased.
It’s peace.

Dripping wounds red


Would’ve thought, clean

It brings pain.

The Fare

Unfelt fears

These are the things that she ruminates some days

Deep down these feelings go

Into a place filled with caverns

And hollow sounding walls.

It’s not cold here, or hot,

It’s nothing, yet it’s filled with sorrow.

The kind that makes her hold her breath.

The darkness envelopes in a quiet, nurturing voiceless swirl of unspoken feeling.

As if to say

“You’re back, my love, I’ve missed you so, where have you been?”.

She just lays there now, eyes closed not fighting with him.

“I’m here” she responds,

I’m always here.

In this place of nothingness

Where the air is sweet and the mind is foggy.

She slips farther back on a wisp of swirling air.

This is it, this is where

Her heart can rest from another fare.

There’s a price to be paid, and each time, she must pay it.

Rest now, quiet your fears,

Wipe your tears.

Loneliness spiny fingers

Encase the form that once was.

Where sunlights light once shown

Now slowly breathes a rot,

Not that of hatred

But of not.

Of things seen once shown

Some of longing, most of life grown.

Loneliness caresses her with care,

Knowing that it’s not a want.

Stealing space within the air

Gently manifesting it’s well worn, but affective snare,

To teach her how to love

Love a loneliness.

She doesn’t understand the prickly hot fire,

The feeling is not what it should be.

Confusing and ripped into pieces

She touches her sliced open chest,

Muscle slippery shiny red and wet,

A slight soft quiver is felt under skin

She smooths it, perplexed.

As a whisp of spring breeze alights on her face.

And cools that open wound still bleeding.

Then as if there was an absence of all knowledge,

A small sinew of warm thread

Sews up burning embers

She watches, waits.

There is no more.

Loneliness apologizes for its abrupt demanding transition.

It’s become her healing catalyst now.

He’s not her fiery enemy anymore,

He’s now her renewal freedom from chains past scars

She embraces him- happy for the growth.

From crippling death rattle

To newborn gulps of fresh life,

Like fragrant rose petals

And tender young sprouts searching for their sunlight.

Fresh and new and reborn.

Loneliness isn’t so bad, she muses

He’s taught her how to breath again.

And live.

Laying down in soft warm grass

She breathes in, and smiles.

Thank you, she whispers out into the air,

It’s over, she sleeps in that eternal wave of comfort

Not strangled by him anymore, but embracing,longing, loving.


Sting Me Again

I hate you for the bleeding you caused, for the necrotizing wash you poured over my soul.

I hate you for castrating my veins, for the wilt that you caused within my mind and over my body.

I hate you for leaving me, for beating me for making me feel like I wasn’t worthy of love, for telling me that my sorrow wasn’t real, for the peel, the smell, the well.

I hate you for stealing my youth, for pulling it slowly, carelessly from the underbelly of your own selfishness.

I hate that I hate, it’s not compromising, or shining or sweet.

Sometimes in my weeping and tears, I allow myself to think the meat, you dead…but not completely, you suffering in your own shit, breathing it and stuck, laying in a rut.

I must break free of this leech that drags me. I must.

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Sing me freedom

Escape into the willows

Breath life again

As it was.

Refreshed and new.

Bring me petals and put upon

My tongue the nectar,

Sweet honeysuckle.

Fragrance me with rose

Slight my hair with soft breezes

I see yet the sunlight

Once again.