Out of the depths …


Speaking the words,
broken shards of language,
razor-sharp speech-bubbles
dragging their leaden weight
through layers of not knowing.

Speaking the words,
I am shredded, crippled by
scything memories;
brutal understanding
creeps into painful focus.

Speaking the words
and all that I was
slithers away as
brittle fragments
of hopeless realisation.

Speaking the words
and my soul disintegrates
under the screaming pain of
the lateness of awareness;
acceptance shatters me.

© Elfstone 31/3/17


Unfortunately, I will now be out of internet range until Thursday lunchtime, so my apologies for appearing to ignore any comments.  I’ll answer as soon as I can. Elf.

© Elfstone 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Very clever and true Elf. I hope this wasn’t prompted by personal experience.
We must remember that they are only that – just words. If you ignore them they will bounce back…
gerry x


A very painful poem full of rage and deep hurt. It helps to get it out into words on paper. (I hope)
If there is a grand day of reckoning, when people pass over and are forced to see the damage they did, it will be pain upon pain for those who
hurt others needlessly and cruelly.

Alison x


I like this as each line is precise and well thought out. .We can all speak in anger and receive anger. The trick is not to shoot the bugger who says it.

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