Is there though?

There’s a limit
To how much useful music you can make,
To how much tension you may instill,
To how much damage any one person deserves.

There is a limit to how much
Despair
Will soak into the pillow cases,
Into the sheets on her bed
Or the tips of your agitated hands
Or the soles of her yellow harried feet.

There is a point at which the night gives way
To a grey and rainsoaked morning.

And when you hit that wall,
When you reach that bluff,
That endless, precipiced edge,
Breath a sigh of relief and close your eyes.

Don’t be afraid to fall.

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4 thoughts on “Is there though?

  1. Three Things:
    1. This is rae,
    2. I’ve been gone forever and now I’m back… Hopefully for longer than this poetry class because I’ve MISSED this poetry writing business.
    3. And you, Z, I’ve missed you and your writing and how lovely it is every. single. time.

    • Rae! Really great to hear from you 🙂 Not writing as much myself these days. Although sometimes that’s a good thing.
      And how very kind of you to say. I look forward to reading something new from you!

      Z/B

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