Double-Edged Flames

 

Art is,

Less a way for me to express

More of a life support

The only way

My heart keeps beating

 

But my fingers have stopped moving

The pen has run dry

The paper, mere ashes

Heart beats,

Sluggish

 

 

By Daphne Shadows

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4 Comments

Filed under Not that Kind of Poetry

4 responses to “Double-Edged Flames

  1. Gwen Hardage-Vergeer

    This happens
    from time to time;
    ashes must be swept away
    and despite your labored breathing,
    and certainty of coming doom,
    stare at the empty table
    or maybe out the window, at a tree
    until your breaths come evenly, softly.
    Then take out a single sheet
    of blank paper,
    full of possibilities.
    -Gwen (last idea courtesy of my favorite musical, Stephen Sondheim’s “Sunday in the Park with George,” which you might enjoy)

  2. Daphne,

    Clueless (not unusual for a guy) as to what to say. What you wrote is heart-piercingly beautiful. But I am afraid it shows real pain, so I go back to my initial response of “clueless ” as to how to be of help…but will be thinking happy thoughts 🐶

    >

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