joannebest











{March 29, 2014}   Patterns

teardrop
the snow does indeed turn to rain,
torrential, relentless,
a reflection of my insides
pouring down like every soul is crying at once,
but tears are just a joke these days,
weakness,
comparable enough for me to keep them hidden,
i am not a weeping willow tree, on a quest to strangle and tangle myself around you
but i am not a warrior princess either,
there is no strength beneath this shell that carries me,
i am full of fear and mistrust
because patterns,
even armed with that knowledge
we still ride that train cyclical,
hitting that same bump over and over,
the past can rear it’s ugly head like a snake unprovoked,
and we pay for our sins eternal,
real or imagined, we pay,
when the cold war sets in
there is no differentiating between a memory or a dream,
fiction becomes non-fiction to the inconsistent eye,
so i lay my head down and listen to another loud deluge pounding me from the outside in,
seeping through my skin only to seek release unnoticed,
slipping from the corners of my eyes
cryy

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Beautifully and powerfully written!



As always, you are a talented and beautiful writer.



I have often thought if I could have filed away the tears of grief, loss, heart-break and life’s handed downfalls, I would never have enough space… and then I find another who is hurting and experiencing life trials in way far greater than I… Your words always resonate and give me cause for reflection in such a way… *sigh*



Thank you Joseph, you don’t know how much it means to me… I’m really bad when it comes to comments, mostly because I don’t feel worthy, (kidding, sort of) but I treasure each one, and I wish I could find the right words to say how blessed I am and how wonderful it is that you enjoy my words. ♥ xox
It means more than you can know 🙂



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