Hanging by her tHrEADs

By NarcissusNarcosis

Can you see it coming..?
The perceived deceits
ready to be
devoured
by a
glass-half-full moon,
truths linked together
chaining a realization process
clanking
in anticipation of being married
to reality...

A laser beam
at the end of the tunnel
aimed at the pupil
reflecting the path ahead
off paranoid corneas...

but the only thing to wonder---
is it a power-point presentation
ready to be performed?
or a LASIK surgery
unable to restrain
from penetrating too deeply
burning and permanently scarring
a section of the brain never meant
to be caressed...

The silk can be so
soothing
when you wish only to reject it
but that fabric of
lucidity
has a way of becoming nylon
when you want it to be...
the knots
make a vow of eternal silence
to the branch,
tying the knot
as it places its ring
committing to
never turning back...

...and then 'they' say,
"the person wasn't thinking straight
at the time...
an eternity defined
by a moment of haste.."

...but after the head
of the event
is blue
and
swollen
and the capillaries
b
u
r
s
t

maybe
the blood that flows
over and from
bulging eyes
tinting tasteless happy tears
paints the only authentic certainty
of any validity...

A picturesque scene
that seems palpable
tells of fantasy...
A traumatic image
that seems unbelievable
hides,
within its pain,

sensibility...

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.

Published on Wednesday, August 28, 2013. Filed under: "Tribute" and "Poetry"

Author's Note:

I hope you rest in peace with a calmness in your soul this world could never give you...With all my love, I will see you on the other side...

Comments on "Hanging by her tHrEADs"

A former member wrote: I could feel the emotion throughout this piece. I felt the mourning with every word and the anger at the loss. when you wrote "and then 'they' say, "the person wasn't thinking straight at the time... an eternity defined by a moment of haste.." It makes me angry. It makes me thing. The fragile pieces of life held together by such thin strings, that a small decision could cut through them and take life away. well written
A former member wrote: "...and then 'they' say the person wasn't thinking straight" . . . But this kind of decision is tough to make "...hides...sensibility...paints the only authentic certainty of an validity." I'm sorry / doesn't mean much when it comes to that which can never be undone . . . a relationship congealing blood, wrapping 'round a wild trust . . . the aftermath during which all is taken from--no understanding--despite your knowledge, shedding light--shield the flood.halfheartedness is never fun, avoidance--annoying as condolences come . . . no words to say, for they'd only betray the harrowing fact that for this one, you slaved . . . there's no drugged out haze that can erase this place . . . Not sadistic, but hope, certainly not depraved, you speak so clearly--you write from pictures searing metal, chains around your wrists--briefly--need to kiss them away, and step into the rain that can lead it to flow right out of the drain. The water will drown your pain for a change, bring it through pipes to the place--all bodies will agree--means one: sea. Swimming thEIR effortlessly (but always, paddling {subliminally}), never forgotten, but changed visually.
A former member wrote: i've tried commenting on this for days... i just can't. it hurts too much to think, to remember, to recognize the depths of your mourning and know there is nothing i can do to help. i hope she's at peace, too... and that eventually, you kind find your own semblance of it here. beautiful tribute, sweetheart.
A former member wrote: i'm sorry you ever had to write this.
On Wednesday, August 28, 2013, Maladroit (198) wrote:

It's incredibly hard to comment on your non-fiction. I am sure I am not the only one fumbling with something that will deliver comforting compliments. Instead, I hope this attaches as more of a reminder of the spread out support you have. You are lovely.
On Wednesday, August 28, 2013, blue angel (866) wrote:

The woven threads of fate. Something we can't escape. Reunite on the other side, indeed. ; / With much respect**