Poetry and or Prose

[Kethlia]

(Forgive my written transgression if this thread exists.  I merely wanted you as breathless as I am. Heh heh.)

 

What written words would interplay the dance and whispered words of skin to skin.

Beneath the sheets of both leather and silk begins a sweet chase of capture and release.

Fling open the covers that bind and unravel the threads that impede your inner creativity and needs.

Let not the wind caress my ear forsakend by your lines of prose and poetry.  Leaving me mumbling an empty rhyming verse.

Take hold of the glass pen that is my embodied vision of your worth.  Dip me into the ink well of your innermost thoughts of your universe. 

Then, cast me onto those discarded sheets with fervored abandoned.   Coloring oblivion into existence; in to a Muse's heaven.

Breathe fast until you collapse beside me drinking in the waters of the Word's revival by our clasped hands.  Fevered by our written ecstacy and yet, still hungering for more.

[Kethlia]

 

https://youtu.be/Gmj35nYi7mY

*Pitch black night, a void that's darker deep inside.
A rift that time, love, and family has torn countless time.
A rift in me that becomes its own void of oblivion.
Nothingness, that keeps it's own council.*

*A step that ripples the darkness, my foot touches down in the midst of my emotions.
Tumbling through pain, fear, and wish to be free of it all.
Another step I move forward?
A ripple that crashes into the others without blending, bending, or breaking.*
Where am I?  What have I become in the midst of this pain and biding my time to wait?

*My body is power, strength, and grace.
Yet, my mind is unsteady, my words the only thing that gives it an anchor to reality.
More ripples, my steps increase, a pulse of light from within me.
It has never flickered even in the midst of my despair and self-loathing.*
Why was I granted this life, time and again, why do I survive after those held most precious?

What gave me the right to stand here in the darkness looking at this abyss made manifest by my Will.
*Nothing else exists in this place, but myself and it.
Raising my hands my favored weapons of choice spill out of them, my words.
Sparks of light against the darkness, some colored by the emotion they portray.
Disgust fills me as I look at the stark contrast between the Words that I say and the Darkness inside.*

Do I have the right?
Tears pour freely as the pain returns the numbness of reality releasing torrents of emotions.
*My knees cause waves to radiate from me that grow with the depth of rage that is also building.*
Can anger and depression exist simultaneously?
Can they burn and freeze a person and leave them unable to breathe?

I fight, my body wills my lungs to breathe, but all I do is cry out in voiceless scream of agony.
Pain searing me in flashes that nearly pierce the light of my steadfast soul.
My mind shrieks into the hollow void inside as my body bends into itself, convulsing on this empty surface.
What right do I have to call this pain, trauma, or ignorant projection? 
Yet, I've forced myself to perfectly master hiding my true feelings.

*Gasping, coarse breath that burns from the prolonged suffocation.*
Time has passed, and my limbs have become heavy from lack of blood, but they fill up greedily with each breath.
Pins and needles run the course of my body, making it unbearable to move, because I am still, Alive.
Looking above, at nothing, looking within at nothing.
I see the light mirrored in a blinding sun above, hollering I cover my eyes.

What I have given, none may take away.
You are mine, you are accepted unconditionally.
You are loved unconditionally.
Words, that aren't my own fill me, leaving me weak and shuddering at the power hidden within the universe.
It cares not what, who, why, or how you are, nor when you'll be at your best.  It accepts.

I look at the Light above through the light of my soul.
Deep within the pain, hate, and anger have started to ease.
I didn't ask, I never pleaded, yet the is healing already starting within me.
It doesn't erase the void or darkness because it's a part of those.
I kept spectating as the emotions right themselves, the wounds scarred over, and the words became empowered.

Within the darkness, there is the dimmest of possibilities offered to me.
Yet, it will take a strength of Will and courage I have not felt to surmount myself.
There are other beacons of light within this darkness now, having gone through this trial alone.
I can see them if I focus, but they too have to pass through the abyss and come out the other side.
I shout with all that I am,  I Will It! Freely Given!  Freely Taken!  I want it!  I need it!  I am!