#22 healing poetry; speech peace

I sit and feel into
this deep peace.
Mercury’s rolling backward,
Having a feast,
On my confusion and the contusion
of my speech.

Inside my mind,
I’ve struggled to define serenity.
It flows right past,
As if it’s too fast,
For me to even look in.

I’ve been used to
coarser emotions, then
emigrated them
to a country of self-proclaimed
dreams where I read reams,
only, of others’ dreams.

There, I play in the confusion,
the contusion of my speech.

There’s a beast in the computer,
and it’s screaming ‘good luck!’
I’m blind to it, as I duck, roll, tuck
my eyes under my fear
behind lashes that have crystallised,
hid too many lies,
to myself, mostly.

I wait in the weeping willow overflow,
of my soul,
brimming with light, and with
love to give,
but unsure of what to do
when the receptacle
makes a spectacle of me.

I am so tired of the confusion,
the contusion of my speech.

Bleeding out my power,
as I try to reach,
a form of clarity, belonging,

The sanctuary of questioning
the reasoning that I am told is
sound leaves me a resounding
note –
it allows me to stand,
strong, proud.

Without a trumpet, or its marching band,
I sound out the power of my truth,
through a defining moment,
with the bite of my back tooth,

I am released
into peace from the confusion, the contusion
of a lying speech
I ground out between my teeth
trying to save
what should have been left.

Days ago,
you rose the walls
and I thought that meant it
was my job to crawl back
demand you take it back.

Instead, I stood in a whirlwind
of me,
looked inside
and caught a glimpse
of something true.

There, I found peace.


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