These look like strong hands,
don’t they?

Ill fated hands–clinched

Still, I cannot bind you to me
I am estranged– from myself.

In spirit, I follow you blindly
whispering pure devotions, echoes.

To beckon a heart yet to notice me.
grasping at loves lonely heels
holding tight.

Remaining in a forever
without you– in anguish
for your acceptance–ill granted?

Is it my destiny to
remain still?  Remain silent?

Tormented whispers

Am I not dear to you?
devoted, my love?

On loves lonely heels,
I am a fool–such weakness.

My hands ache, as my heart aches.

Clinched fists forced to open

Only to reveal fingernail deep
impressions of my anger.

Is this it, love?

My failure?

I am weak, my love.
wake me…dear love.

Am I so noxious to you?

Steadfast, I will remain silent.
Quieted with in-decisions
remind me, love…wake me.

For on loves lonely heels
I will wait– and slumber.

Image credit: Aimee Ketsdever
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