Been a while.

This blog is only for me, really, so this is more a statement and contract to myself.  I haven't written in so long that it sometimes seems pointless to write at all.  But, I think I am at a place where my pen will flow again, and I feel nervously excited about it.

Having said that, here is a poem I wrote last week.  The first I have written in AGES.  Here's to hoping there is more, regardless of how "good" it is, or worrying what others will think, or whether or not that I feel all I ever write is darkness.  Maybe I do.  And maybe that is where I need to be.  Maybe that is good.

I hated you that summer

Dry, cracked and unforgiving

Like the season suggested

You used me for your needs

An escape that couldn’t be sated

No regard that I needed, too

You thought you were wild and free

Never once looking back

To see if I could keep up

You thought the sun was beneath you

The moon inconsequential

Little baubles to decorate your world

But like the sun and its fire

And the moon with its glow

You burned out

I hated the look in your eyes

Haunted and vacant and unseeing

Much like the soul underneath

I hate that you were part of the journey

A piece I can’t take nor give away

But I am glad I don’t see you

When I look in the mirror now

 

BK 4/24/13