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A (past) lonely moment, re-worked

You, the future, matters relating, connection


Eyes fill

Lids heavy with your despondency

Wouldn’t want to repair the puncture you made

( my structure’s taut and hers of wonder)


You literally couldn’t care enough

During my saga of loneliness

I want to be there.

We are creativity

and the universe, swept up


Looking for purpose

And she jolts me, as I catch up to it

She is the force of depth, that won’t need

to impress

From pain, I want a reprieve


My healing is constant. Evolving. Painful

Misinformation, that you chose to decode as historical fiction

She is the spark

The depth, meaning, hope, peace and joy within

The science behind, the words to describe

all that she longs to

Centuries of stories and philosophies

Brewing, sparking, from imaginative

creativity

I want her to feel alive, from within



Even missteps on broken ladders,

shows us what my need is

Growing and loving both of our hearts





She has words that, more-than, matter, change to make

Time to relax, and do that, without

her insides eating her health

A body of power and wonder

And everything she will go on to tell




The shame of not feeling wanted, for me

Hit

We are the fire, flames

and the spark

Rubbing the bark scrapings together

Turning thoughts

into moments

and you had laughed, when I whispered

this is my calling

and when I dared to call it ‘Art’







..

(not a literal poem, abstract ideas)


UK poet, spoken word, Tara


re-working old words

(a mashed up poem - started about one thing, ended differently)



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