Beyond a Soul (first draft--HELP!)

You see me sipping coffee through a straw And think “confusion”. I’m weaving worlds on the horizon. You think my tapestry’s in tatters, But its only beginning to take shape Beneath my fragile fingers. A nun, she lectures me about my self esteem, But what does she think she’s sheltering Within her holy habit? Routinely with the rosary Holding silent seances for God While I’m sitting with him upon a summit Talking over tea. She tells me to find God, but I know where he lives Not one in a million, but a million in one. Talking to eternity, talking to emptiness, talking to myself. I will not be party to partisan prayer. You see me tripping over my shoe strings And think “disaster”. My suicide is not a wish to die but A longing to live, To fly, To don the free-est butterfly gauze And take to the skies, lifted by The fragile filaments you call my weakness. The most beautiful things are the ones most easily Broken. Torn. Crumbled. But never forgotten. Perhaps I will be dashed against The rocks of my apparition, But I will remain Holier than your deception. You traverse this Earth once with your perfect grace But I will endure. I am eternal.This poem flat out needs MAJOR help. Just any good suggestions. I dont' even know what i'm trying to do with it... Just help me get over my block with this subject? I've been working on the poem for a while and can't get it to where I'm content with it. I may even add a few more stanzas. I don't know. Even ask questions or comment where I could develop. I have too much trouble writing about myself. This poem has been rewritten a dozen times in the past month in drastically different forms. 11-13-01: Thanks to ManicMuze for some small improvements in wording. I think it flows much better now but I'm still going to play with the content. Written November 10th, 2001 © on Nov 09 2001 03:33 PM PST   18 • 0 • 13