This is Life

Hurricane Katrina

This is Life
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By Shaye



Bitter wind slaps indiscriminately against my forgotten, lucid windows while my melancholy tears, inflamed with tenderness, cascade wearily and stain my velvet journal of yesteryear a deep hue of azure.

This is alone.

Hesitation peeks in momentarily from the sleek corner of my worn eyes—swollen and drained yet still lovely, in an odd sense. I wince. Another untruth, another abandonment, another cease of power. I surrender my all for some sanity..any solace.

This is afraid.

Solitude envelops my nakedness-refined in the serene seclusion. All denigrated are those sorrows, weeps and nightly rhythmic whimpers. The stale warmth of the diminutive crawl space is my Sabbath. I cry for me. You. Us.

This is without Love.