The Apologist

She holds the words, like crumbling walls
a half-used statement, a shaky vow
Her isolated hope that understanding can break the fall
the fall away of her freedom in now
She strains the tears against herself
waiting for the break and nothing else
The day escaping, passive yet stealth
the night an anchor, with its dreary trappings of predictability
A crackled sky breaks over and through a dream
where she restrains the plague of rainstorm memories
A half-hearted hope is what she expects to be
drowning the screams, fighting the need
to depart from the heart of anxiety
She holds the words, like crumbling walls…

Carrie Gilbert 2015

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s