I willed myself, for an hour last night, to cry
It didn’t work
But I really tried
Voices in the hallway were the soundtrack to my sorrow, the echoes to my anguish
like the summoned nights of tears that ' A woman's Work' lead me thru, dont get it wrong
I’m not sad and nonfunctional but hurting so bad I willed myself unsuccessfully to cry.
This is not some depression, slit yr wrist kinda torment, this is a love affair with life’s truth that I swear most time seem to misplace in my masks, my lies
The sanity, which is my vision, within the craziness that is my awakening.
Last night I willed myself to cry for a friend so near but so far,
But again as I tried and tired. My souls hands reached around me for a hug, my mouth tasted salty water from my eyes and sighed with ecstasy. I fell asleep, peacefully dreaming of false realities, dreaming of pleasant horrors.
Last night I forgave myself for misunderstanding. And this morning I massage the pain in the middle of my back, and sing along to the sunrays reflecting and dancing off windows.
Gino Obuseng
1 comment:
u words come to life wen i read them.like soul in its physical form....i am inlove with ur poem
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