Presently
I wrote compressed under a gather of clouds, insistent
and deep; no blood would be allowed
to leak weakly onto crisp white consciousness;
This risk was an opposite of nothingness.
A blade gleamed in my mind; my gentle
swipe set one single idea scuttling towards release.
With ease the gathering shifted, then lifted,
Electric with the coppery scent being sent
forth from the tender slash. Awareness gasped
into sight; no, not lost, simply waiting
for this strange deliverance - banishment not
heeded. Roiling thoughts spilled forth
darkly; skies parried while parting partially.
Is this messy process what was needed?
A needle to the heart as part of some strange
therapy. I’m still me, ascending from a vacancy
while I carry a deepened breath to breathe more easily.
I wrote oppressed by a gather of clouds;
I found my chaos pulled to order;
What I lost was merely a concept of another
reality; yet all still connects sharply.
My perception will waver when covered
in wrappings that crackle and distract me.
This is one of my multiple planes of existence
that I live in presently.
Copyright 2011 Kimberly Hillard
6/11/11
Oh, man, Kah... You have definitely hit the big-time : D
Hey Chaos! Nice to see you - and thank you very much :)