Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The scorpion bending his opinion
can not change its position before
the stinging blow of his assertion.

The colour pink upsets me,
gnaws my soul in half if I think
about being able to love you.
You the other half of me I am
willing to ignore because there is alacrity
in starlight that needs no shaded eye.

From your fetal position, you, the critic
must assail the western wind to steal my
poems, sucking
the marrow from my pen and leaving me
crumpled like useless words on paper
you will always throw away as if I didn't
matter to hands that will never caress me
or to lips that will never taste my venom.

~A

opening stanza is a poem by itself......but beyond that is profound sadness expressed as eloquently as anyone in gut-wrenching pain can expect when half of yourself is missing......thanks for sharing anna.....

Thank you both for reading.

Yes. The eternal seeking for the *other half* of oneself. The problem remains with who is doing the searching and that one always seems to change.

~A