Creative Pursuit

When my face is wet with wasted tears

Get away from me

When my wounds force me to moan

Get away from me

When my pain has interfered with your day

Get away from me

Shall I compare thee to a perfect storm?

You are more destructive and scar deeply.

You seem to have mastered the perfect form.

Attempting to love thee ends so filthy.

Thou believes to be the wounded subject,

and thou cuts thy skin to prove thy madness

Yet it is I who cries in silence

please do not forget our common hardships.

But after the rain the breeze embraces

the soft kisses thou forgot to give me.

My bloody heart beats with love in braces

for it is trying to let go freely.

For as long as this cycle keeps breeding,

The stars don’t twinkle anymore.

I noticed it far too late.

One day I was looking ahead,

the next I was searching with my neck outstretched.

The things you miss after they’re gone,

chances are you won’t see them back.

But, if fortune is on your side

you’ll get a second chance.

My fingers linger on the light switch as I say a last goodbye to the great stage I spent my entire life manipulating. When I close my eyes I can still imagine the frantic buzzing of all my hard working bees, and the music of life making a splash onto the shores. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I long for the hot summer days that brought friends together and for the moonlight that eased the quarrels of lovers. And yet a hint of envy always tugged at my heart as I watched from above like a lonely outcast. How could a mother love her children and equally long for that sense of freedom one gets only when truly unattached? I found myself time and time again battling and internal war, crumbling under the self-shame. Even I, in my benevolence strayed at times and lashed out in anger, causing my bees to lose faith in my presence. I desperately tried to save them from themselves, for my merciful presence was the only thing that saved them from self-destruction. I realized soon enough that nothing, not even I, could stop the chain of events that my temper and neglect caused. It took me three long years to take down what took millions of years to develop. I cried when I torched the lustrous forests, my tears flooded the dry lands and instantly drowned the hearts that beat. Now I stand here with a new life ahead of me, but my old role as a caretaker wants to pull me back in; I stop it. There is nothing left here but the haunting silence that has no end.