~ The Paper Trail

In whispering thoughts and sheets of white, the vision comes, enters me suddenly, without a sound, brings the ceiling down to touch my nose, and all the words begin to sing in harmony. It is a piece of memory, a distant dream, a fantasy, a fear unseen, and everything that could ever be tiptoes across the page.  A sudden rage of broken-ness strips off its dress and walks naked across the room. It is doom, an unending tune that pounds behind my left ear. A tear that wilts the paper, a masked invader of my soul, and yet, I still search, still cry at night, still cover my eyes when my blues get too bright, and all the actions that I take are fated to shake the spirit down, wander around with mouths agape, with promises slipping off tongues of hate, and all others who refuse to see, words can heal, words can breathe new life into all who take the chance, to glance beyond their own safe worlds, turn left outside the gates and travel toward nameless, faceless states, where all that is defined as strong, and all that is forgiven as frail, empties me then fills me again, and leaves a paper trail.Published Spring 2002 -  The Rainbow's Edge E-Zine This is really meant to be read aloud... Written November 5th, 2001 © on Sep 24 2002 05:16 PM PST, Wendy Hammond    0 • 12 • 10