you burned me in the light with my eyes wide open. you told me lies fettered with the fat of
illusion so that your sustenance would not affect me until after I had
died. you grew wings of red pallor and
soared above me, towering me with your ingratitude. you were a lie. you were disease. you were the coward I feared
in myself and you were the chance I needed to be. Passivity, in return became my
makeshift. I left passion out on the pasture, cutting off
her knees, swearing her to chains, and leaving her in solitude as she spoke in
tongues to the breeze. For months I left
her sitting, dormant and alone. I denied my association to her. I dissembled my
core. I took apart my puzzle and
placated my soul by pretending passion was superfluous, her fumes too futile,
toxic to the soul. but now that I am in
the aftermath of the emptiness she has left, I realize her importance. I
recognize her course. I am transfixed with the beauty of how passion lives in
me. I come to life in her wake and her innocence
overwhelms the lion I so feared her out to be.
~Angela Rachelle
(circa 2009)
(circa 2009)
photo:
www.3bp.blogspot.com
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