Hunted, Hurt, Haunted

Just prey
In his sights
Lured with his words
Loved only as a pawn
His long distance trophy
An unwilling captive
Soul maimed

My heart
Ripped to shreds
The gift reverently given
In hands filthy with his
Keystrokes to his whores
Lies of magnitude
The Devil

Despised revenant
Creeping and crawling
Disturbing my midnight dreams
Smiling his protestations of love
Staining newborn clean thoughts
With his memory
This lingering

~ kei
7 October 2014

My Voice

I find myself in a very strange place of late

My life is hurtling forward to a new and better place

It’s as though I’m simply along for the ride at times

I’m feeling a disconnect with old ways, old titles and ties

Oddly, I find myself without words

Processing, shedding, processing more

No words seem adequate to tell this story

The old words?

They were culled, stolen and groomed

On a very deep level

I understand my heart’s reticence to resume writing that way

There are enough similar situations, behaviours and words

To both elicit those words and to frighten them away as quickly as they come

It may be fair to say that I’m as yet, one of the damaged ones

I pick up my pen, rest fingers to keys; then sigh and turn back to reality

The words are there yet, I hear them whisper and echo deep in my soul

A relinquished muse, ear tuned to again capture that one perfect note

Poetry waiting patiently to be released from a damaged psyche

Echo will find her own song

Narcissus is dead and can’t fill her head

Now that he’s gone

~ kei

16 July 2014