Brenda Warren
I lay awake at night stumbling
In sheets crusted with ether
Wondering why I cannot
Dream without panic.
–
Your eyes snag in passing,
A choice belabored in conversation,
A discreet high razing
The length of my spine,
A thousand miles of wreckage
Strewn between our ruined hearts.
What is there left to talk about?
Help no longer performs
The obligatory resuscitations.
–
I wipe the sweat from my chakras,
Sleeves bolstered at the elbows.
The stain of love never comes out
But there is always
An alteration of color.
Someday these raw red wounds
Will shrink to silver.
mindlovemisery 
Love that line… The stain of love never comes out! I so enjoy your writing
Thank you so much XD
This is very good Yves, deep.
Thanks Laurie =)
Always welcome Yves. 🙂
Some great lines!
Thank you Sue!
you
can
always
see
the
panic
in
his
eyes
every
time
he
has
to
perform
though
it’s
his
coice
there’s
no
help
for
it
he
can’t
talk
it
away
he
feels
the
sweat
burn
as
it
rolls
down
his
face
it’s
happened
a
thousand
times
so
now
he
concentrates
on
the
snag
high
up
on
his
sleeve
and
let
his
voice
soar
I can relate to this intense anxiety. I am constantly pushing myself to speak in class and participate but the intense fear never lessens
❤ this…especially that last stanza!
Thanks Melanie!
The stain of love never comes out / But there is always / An alteration of color. / Someday these raw red wounds / Will shrink to silver.
A very interesting and strong piece, but these last lines – they speak of hope in change and healing; finding strength – and of course, scars – but nonetheless – they are positive.
Great job Yves 🙂
Thank you so much!!