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
all rights reserved
Sandy Hoffman
@aidyreviews
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