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    Headstall
  • Headstall
  • Author
  • 03/02/2016
  • 254 Words
  • 3,187 Views
  • 26 Comments
The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Headstall's Reflections - 9. Chapter 9 Hidden Echoes

Poetry prompt 15- Free Verse
I started writing something happy, about how beautiful it was outside, but my thoughts went inward.

Headstall's Reflections

 

 

Chapter 9 Hidden Echoes

 

 

Unbidden, why do my tears strike from nowhere?

Blurring my vision, and iron resolve

Turning resilience tenuous, uncertain

 

Memories intrude and faces flicker by

Stinging softly, insidiously… regretfully?

Why do I care about the past, said and done?

 

Life is good… is it not?

I have so much… to ask more would be greedy

Yet, still I yearn… for what? Absolution? For me… or others?

 

What is it I want… why stirs my pain?

Am I even in control… have I ever truly been?

Scalding drops brings release, yes, but no relief

 

For I cannot grasp their reason even though I search

Answers elude and the need for questions frustrate

Do I not know myself? Does my past rule me? Own me?

 

Inside is a repeating, raging cry no one hears

Because I choose to keep it to myself

Hidden echoes hint at something I cannot grasp

 

I must stay on my safer path, determined

It’s what I have to do… breaking apart is no option

Push my insistent queries aside and pray they relent

 

Too many count on me to be strong and sure

And therein lies my strength, my worth, my escape

These are only quick tears after all, shed in secret

 

They, at least, leave no bruises to be seen

A brush of my sleeve and they’re gone

And only I know they were ever there

Thanks for reading. Maybe I'll write something joyful next time... or, maybe not....
Copyright © 2017 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Headstall
4 hours ago, Rigby Taylor said:

I have so much… to ask more would be greedy

Yet, still I yearn… for what? Absolution? For me… or others?

 

Mmmm... done is done and there's no way to change it. But it still hurts, raises hot flushes of regret, shame, fear.

I read a multitude of years ago about a man who drilled a hole in his forehead in order to give himself a frontal lobotomy so he could forget. It worked and he survived.

Fuck you're a great writer of poems that grasp the essentials and shove them in our faces.

Hey, R. I guess, in some ways, poetry is my way of self operating. I'm still working out the kinks, but, at least for a while, it makes some of that regret, shame, and fear more manageable. As for those hidden echoes, and those questions, they are still elusive. They still come out of nowhere, and they still frustrate. They do not make me want to pick up a drill, though. :) 

 

Thanks for bringing me back to these poems... and thank you for your very kind words. It is a great reward when a reader connects with these little offerings... cheers... Gary....

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