Little Corner.
There is a space in my life where no body goes.
A little dark place.
The sparkle of promise and denial of peace.
A gap in the boundary of perceived content.
Perhaps one day there will be some light,
When the ones who should, can be trusted into that space.
As it stands —
There is a space in my life where no body goes.
A small dark place.
The iron clad hope of determined substance is diluted.
A placid and broken process of perfected ignorance.
Perhaps one day there will be a some change,
When the ones who should, can be trusted into that space.
As it stands —
There is a space in my life where no body goes.
A broken dark place.
The perception of power to solidify submission is open.
A flow of anxious participation has a gravity; unkempt.
Perhaps one day there will be some light,
When the ones who should, can be trusted into that space.
As it stands —
There is a place in my life where no body goes.
A hidden dark place.
The gift of grace has a bitter taste when redeemed in duplicity.
A heart is four chambers with one dark corner; undescovered.
Perhaps one day there will be some change,
When the one who should, can be trusted into that space, again.
As it stands —
There is a place in my life where nobody goes.
A place of disrepute.
The force of faithfulness feels frigid and forever, withheld.
A breath before the depths of fear make you step out and yield.
Perhaps one day there will be something,
When you, you who should, can be allowed back into that corner, again.
