Without You by Rosemary J. Gwaltney
Without you
I become a two month fetus in a bleeding womb;
A hundred year old gasping her last breath;
An animal tied to the tracks when the trains come.
Without you
I become a newborn child with no breath of life;
A caterpillar being devoured by a crow;
A spilled glass of water on a sheet of ice.
How can I embroider my silver threads
Into the fragile, delicately woven fabric
Of your spirit, so that you truly comprehend
How deeply I love you?
I will always love you, always.
Without you, I fill with terror;
Without you, I fade into night;
Without you, loneliness eats me alive, bite by bite.
I become a two month fetus in a bleeding womb;
A hundred year old gasping her last breath;
An animal tied to the tracks when the trains come.
Without you
I become a newborn child with no breath of life;
A caterpillar being devoured by a crow;
A spilled glass of water on a sheet of ice.
How can I embroider my silver threads
Into the fragile, delicately woven fabric
Of your spirit, so that you truly comprehend
How deeply I love you?
I will always love you, always.
Without you, I fill with terror;
Without you, I fade into night;
Without you, loneliness eats me alive, bite by bite.
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Rating: A- |
This is written directly from one of my many lifetimes. An experience so deeply painful, that it cannot be erased from my memory. Thus, though it is many years over, I decided it was time to share it. (He came back to stay.)
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WOW, THAT'S A REALLY GOOD WAY TO EXPRESS THAT CRAZY LONLY, HURT FEELING. - CATINA |
