Writing Bare

Original Work published November 30th, 2014 by J.Lyn

At seventeen I Loved
        the language
                and the mouth
                        writing,
                                speaking,
                                singing
There is such beauty in the sounds
There is such melody in the words.
At twenty-five a glimmer
Of the truth slipped out of me and I saw the passion
bloom with birth one, two, and three as I wrote to my children
delving into each love for thee and then not all at once but
slowly slipping, seeping like a daydream of me sleeping
It held me
        Shook me
                Hurt me
                       Killed me
                               Left my carcass broken
                               And bare
There is a loudness in writing truths
There is such pain in speaking hurts.
At thirty-five a floodgate
I must constantly close down so that I can focus
on living the life that I have forged  so I can emit the stories
that demand to be written between the grains of sand falling
and the sounds of the voices of the past.
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