A Conversation

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I look into your eyes–you stare
I find an irony somehow
In everything about your face
But I push that aside for now
I ask you of the life you chose
And is it working out so far
Behind the tired rings you wear
All the bitter nights have carved
Colors tell the story well
Though you simply shrug and laugh
But we both know you’re not yourself
And maybe he will not come back
I look into your eyes–so deep
I ask you if you have regrets
You slowly turn your head and speak
Whispering replies in breath
“I wouldn’t want to say it’s good
Or claim that I am glad at all
For how it all turned out–or could”
But then you lift your head up tall
“I know that this has cost so much
I know I may appear unwell
But heaven here is hard to touch
I guess I had to go through hell
It doesn’t mean I’m scared to burn
It doesn’t mean I don’t look back
I could have walked the easy way
But I choose not to think of that”
If all the sleepless nights were stars
The galaxy is in your look
If all the tears you cried were words
The lines across your cheek are books
I look into your eyes–you stare
I find an irony somehow
I see you every day right here
But cannot seem to search you out
And when I think I know you well
Or when I think you’re feeling fine
My mirror finds the truth to tell
Your tired face is just like mine

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59 responses to “A Conversation

  1. Wow this is breathtakingly beautiful. You blew me away with this one. The tears and pain are so vivid. Well done VW! Well done

  2. Oh wow….so heartfelt and intense! I felt as though I were sitting there seeing through your eyes and feeling what you felt…. so vivid and very real….. makes me wonder how this turns out…..
    loved it
    Celeste

  3. I love this VW. It’s been a while and I have missed your words. The ability to look beyond the physical to something you know all too well……great imagery.

  4. VW, just getting caught up with you. I’m so happy to read your poetry once again! This one was very real to me – I can so relate to the emotions, the pain of making impossible choices (or being affected by another’s choices – and the resulting heart-ache).
    Glad you’re back, sharing your expressions with us – whatever they may be.

  5. How true it is that empathy (for ourselves first–and then for others) is the best lens through which to view others as we “communicate” with them!

  6. This may well be the best piece of yours I have ever read, I cannot understand how I let this brilliance slip through my e-mail before. Things have not been at their best recently organisationally. 😳

  7. Hi, VW, I agree with Lydia, its breathtakingly beautiful ‘If all the tears you cried were words
    The lines across your cheek are books’ love and tears very well depicted in words.

  8. Your talent never ceases to amaze me. You truly have a gift for stirring up words and emotions to create a powerful piece of poetry. Therefore, I would like to nominate you for the Reader Appreciation Award.

  9. “If all the tears you cried were words
    The lines across your cheek are books”

    within the sad beauty of these two lines
    your wisdom is clearly defined
    tears create rivers that flow
    toiling one’s life’s soul

    a beautiful read VW, I have missed your words
    they speak volumes in our silence

    Take care…
    )0(
    ladyblue

  10. Hi VW, I just re-read this again and this struck out to me so much tonight,
    “And when I think I know you well
    Or when I think you’re feeling fine
    My mirror finds the truth to tell
    Your tired face is just like mine”

    So honest in these lines…..there is no hiding, ever.

    Be well.

  11. I try not to remind myself of the torture and brokenness (and feelings of being used) anymore, which was basically what my last words that you read were all about. I try to remain strong and unshakeable most of the time, from now on. I no longer like to show my vulnerable side to any one that is not willing to show theirs to me (in person) and that has become my rule of thumb for all aspects of life, professionally or personally. I guess you would say, I have been broken, unwillingly, unwantedly but still broken, none the less….I am still whole, I am still me.. I just chose to never (for now) show that side of me again (the soft, loving and forgiving side)..until I know I can trust them…and that my dear friend has become the issue. Once you have been burned by the one you trusted (and believed in) the most, all hope can and will be lost.
    I’m happy to hear your tortured heart is still feeling, mine seems to have remained silent and unable to believe anything but disappointment….yet I still trek on silently, in the back of my heart knowing true love still exists……(and with a happy ending)

    • I have always been a bit withdrawn and private. I have learned the price of vulnerability lately, and I have decided (when I am strong enough to convince myself) that I must stay vulnerable. I have passed through a time of pain, bitterness, and finally silence. My heart feels as if it has emerged from a mixture of the most glorious and more horrific moments in my life, and it is a bit worn at the moment. I have found ways to press forward without entirely giving up, yet without holding out too much hope. There is still a great deal of pain for me here in this blog–just rereading portions of it wrenches me to tears–but I have not abandoned the me that wrote those things. I have wrapped them gently and placed the pieces in my pockets. Tragedy is my inheritance, and romance is a weapon by which I have been torn to the point of death. Love is my blood and my bane. I cannot claim to be much more than confused, but I determine to fight the hardness which threatened to engulf me not long ago–that deep pain of loss screaming at me to don my armor, deny my weakness, and lookout only for myself. I cannot say I am healed. I can say I do love. I can say I am still tender and attempting to remain that way, and if you stay here you are welcome to do the same. We must surely have a safe place left to do so unashamed.

  12. Your words have spoken to me on many levels with this last comment.

    “I have learned the price of vulnerability lately, and I have decided (when I am strong enough to convince myself) that I must stay vulnerable. I have passed through a time of pain, bitterness, and finally silence.”

    **I hope you can remain vulnerable one day and I hope it shows you the beauty (wonderment and joy) of being a human in love…and expressing it out loud..b/c its so much more rewarding than the pain from the past …. (I also hope the same for me, again, one day) ***

    Yes, I am still there, maybe not so much the pain, nor bitterness, but deff the silence. I feel at this point in time that silence is my only savor. The last time I spilled my soul, I lost it (for a time being), I lost my power, myself, I gave it to someone else who I trusted and loved dearly and I was left to fend for myself at the end of the battle between his armor and wolves against my heart and the rest of the mess that was left behind (with him never looking back).

    Like you donning your armor, I cannot fathom dothing mine…even here (at the moment). Call me crazy, call me paranoid, call me intuitive…..but I cannot bear my soul or feelings at this point. I felt like when I started the HeartofBella blog I could finally talk my way into my own thoughts, gain a grasp of what I was dealing with and explain my rationale ( as best I could) as to how I felt, being in complete love and happiness (no matter the environment).

    In the end, I just ended up feeling vulnerable (once again…like many times before) and wasted time writing about and to someone who never read (and if they did), never cared what I felt.

    Sorry for the tangent, but I completely feel your need to collapse and be by youself…I have felt that for quite some time now and it sucks (I’m not going to lie)

    • Even your comments are poetic. Perhaps they can be your expression until you will it to be more. They certainly speak to me. Yes, it does suck. It is, without doubt, the worst and most devastating experience in my life. I hope I never lose sight of that. Some days I simply cannot turn the pain into art–it is mere survival. There were many days I could not return here. I could not bear it. I sympathize well with your words. Tomorrow I may again relapse into the hell from which I have crawled (several times). I will fight with your banner tonight, and perhaps you will help me hold my own one day.

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