#samueldeckerthompson

Your stinging slap to my cheek resonated a bit,

but it wasn't the death blow.

Your wicked words cut a little deep,

it wasn't the end though.

What really got me,

the thing that caved in my soul,

was the silence ...

when you finally let go.

"How is it that after all these years apart I still think of you every single day?"

"That's love, Sam."

"How is it that after all this time we can see each other again and still touch like this, kiss like this, love like this, and feel such utter bliss?"

"This is just a dream, Sam."

"How is it that a love once so great now only exists in my dreams?"

"That's life, Sam."

When women give life

and men so frequently take it

you need not wonder why

these spindly legged fawns

begin to fear so early on

that they could ever make it

as they prance through the treacherous forest

of young adulthood

under the watchful eyes

of these predators

who lie

in full length camouflage.

She wanted to be free again,

to remember how to breathe again,

to learn to drink and flirt again,

without the fear of a man

causing her pain,

to just enjoy the moment,

to relish the electricity of his touch,

without expecting it would lead to much.

She just wanted to live free again.

It is a rather sad and complicated truth that the toughest, most self-reliant, unoffendable people with a great sense of humor and immense creative talent are often the ones who have suffered the greatest abuse and trauma in their youth.

While, on the other hand, the weakest, most fragile people, who tend to lack motivation and work ethic, were often given a childhood full of material possessions, love, attention, and support.

I've wandered for a thousand lifetimes,

in search of my eternal home,

and there's nothing cute to announce here,

it doesn't exist in your cold embrace,

so the quest continues,

I must move on.