Finished re-reading, purging, organizing my writings,
not realizing the volume I created,
or the amount devoted to the elusive one,
so vivid in my imagination,
so non-existent in reality.
He seemed alive for those days,
we shared a lot, I felt his presence,
he saw me, heard me, touched me,
we conversed in the shadow world.
I am talented at attracting this personality type,
they allow me into their lives for a while,
and then lock me out forever.
Drawn in by the mysterious,
I am left with hurt and rejection.
Though I contemplate the possibilities,
No explanation, no resolve.
Today the process is completed,
each piece placed in its folder
and I see what I have made out of the voices in my head.
I never expected to find this strong voice.
It demands to be written on the pages,
edited, released into the world.
I've become a writer, a poet,
finally at the right place, at the right time.
A brief thanks to the spirit who inspired me to begin this process,
wherever he might be.
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| photo by author |
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