Arrows and Such
Was it just words? I could swear those words were arrows. Not of Eros and Nirvana but searing in their disparate points of view. A tender admission unrehearsed and naked, intended to convey,not betray in its imperfect expression. Words like arrows banished me... a free fall in this abyss, this day seems too much to rouse me to light and blue sky.
I am all to aware that this morning may bring more of what came yesterday.
Perhaps tender admissions require sanctity clothed in the recesses of my heart... stifled in perfect fear and words in my throat like arrows can be kept at bay.
I ask myself to what end am I willing, am I able, to say good bye to that insular space that moors me, and risk this zealously protected being, disarming once and for all words and arrows and such?