The Journal of Charlie Morgan The Lonely Heart Calls
09/01/2004 03:37 p.m.
...through frothy lips, wet with blood
a woman whimpers--the noise muffled
by the fold of her elbow.
...groaning with the weight of a thousand
unfilled dreams, she lumbers to bed
finding respite from hurt.
...the weary mother-wife-daughter-neice-friend
has kept the pain, the hurt like
Grannies keep bronzed shoes.
...using the mirror for admonishment,
a service she freely gives to herself
ordered so by him as he walks out the door.
...all her Hopes take flight for fear of the burden
she's taken gladly by accepting
the love of a husband-son-nephew-monster. I am currently Helpless
Member Comments on this Entry |
Posted by George Hoerner on 03/28/08 at 06:07 PM The heart has chambers something like the mind. Some chambers hold love and some lonliness, some hole fear of both lonliness and love. Women carry their hurt and fear silently. Men carry their love and lonliness silently. As hard as we both try we only find on rare occasions a glimmer of communication displaying real feeling creeps between us. Take care my friend. |
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Posted by Alison McKenzie on 11/08/10 at 11:31 AM This could have been my window you were looking through, though I'm sure so many of us have lived there. It felt so personal I'm sure that's why I couldn't comment then. It touches me still, but now only in the echo from those memories. I love your heart, CM. |
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