I am broken…

“A languid realm that awaits my beating heart and smiles upon its shattering,

emotion to emotion and falling beneath it all, I called on the power and

intelligent design that bleeds with me. Yet its large presence of wisdom

abandoned my quiver and broke my bow, smiling in the aftermath of starving

my soul and ripping my heart to shreds, feeling, falling, free to pour out

leftover passion that may cry loud enough to be heard. The mind has

overtaken the soul, yet the soul knows the mind and sees an outcome of

surrender. I can bleed no more, I love and am love, starving with a broken

bow and crippled with worn out hands. My tears fall on tatters of swollen

wounds and feet that have found a place in which to flee. My arrows lost in

flight leaving my quiver empty and barren. And a broken bow that an arrow

alone could not mend. And it’s mending an illusion that would stall a graceful

exit into a realm where arrow, quiver and bow melt into symbols, death losing

its sting with an embrace of needing nothing.”