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String Theory

by Scott Cadence


I can see
there is a blank space
that no one has touched within me.

The tombs have not been robbed
of their ancient artifacts.

Sometimes I forget I can come here
and remember who I am.

How long it has been
since I reflected
in the peace
of a hissing record.


I am young now.

I look down
at my hands.

I know
how fleeting
this is.

Because everyday
I am getting older.

I know now
it cannot be measured
in a wrinkle on my face
but through a tear.

My age is hidden,
like a kiss my father once
gave my mother
in a love
I never knew
between them.

Yet somehow
they live on in me.
I sense their touch
when I touch,
this longing
is their longing,
the excitement
of an open window
is now a portal to the infinite,
their teenage love
lives on in my love
as the appointed purveyor
of everything great in my life.

I am so wealthy
because of them.


But I didn't always know this.

How difficult it is to feel the string
that links us all together
when our hearts are broken
and heavy
and we scream from our caves
and the anger finally turns into resentment.

You can't begin to imagine the denial
until one day you are someone else completely
unbalanced and energy deprived
you begin lashing out at everyone.

It can warp and manifest into physical things
awful things
and you'll suspect
in the back of your mind
if it was all your doing,
every wish
had come true.

It's really how they say.

And for what?
To feel something
you weren't meant to feel.
but had to experience.
All the warning
made it that much more

and I must admit
I made a home there
for many years
it protected me,
and I protected it.

But soon that same happiness
makes you scared.
The light threatens
to reveal what was really
going on with you
all that time.

It's then you realize
the conviction you feel
is the fighting of your own truth -
and this string,
it just magnifies
the disappointment
you've been harboring
toward yourself.

And it is the disappointment and guilt
that kills you
in the end,
you know?

I suppose the choice
is to either become the haunted,
playing over and over
our own personal hell on earth
never moving forward


find a means
of freeing yourself
of the fear.

And when I did, for myself,
it was only then I realized the fear
wasn't that I wouldn't be

It was the simple fact
that I wasn't sure I could
accept myself.


Posted on 12/06/2011
Copyright © 2024 Scott Cadence

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by George Hoerner on 12/06/11 at 01:53 PM

Accepting ones self is hardest and easiest thing in the world to do and hopefully you can move forward where ever that takes you. A really fine write Scott.

Posted by Adam Dyson on 12/06/11 at 07:00 PM

A stunning read! Nicely paced with resonance to guide anyone to that place in themselves, and reward them with the beginnings of their own truths. Very well executed.

Posted by Linda Fuller on 12/07/11 at 10:53 PM

Thought- and emotion- provoking poem. I really like the 2nd stanza.

Posted by A. Reed on 12/08/11 at 09:19 PM


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