Zoe Catherine Kendall, artist, writer and human...

Monday, 12 April 2010

A sad/bad memory, fast being absorbed by the healing self.

These Passing Days 


I am no longer dreaming dreams of you. ‘You’ are no longer a person but a concept, a representation of pain. ‘You’ exist in nightmares only, ‘you’ at a distance, fizzling and fading, burning sticks in no mans land, burning away, smoke fills the air, smoke rises as I turn away. ‘You’ – nothing but a pile of ashes in a deserted street. I will not walk that way anymore.

And now me; I am fizzling, not fading, fighting and fearing. I am full of life, full of myself, full of anxiousness. I remain, after you facilitated my discovery. I sway, oscillate, and now I am in recovery. Positioning carefully, full of ware, pinching tears together, holding them in.

Most of all I want to be safe.

From ‘you’ since you insist on haunting me.

And now again, I assert my new found calmness.

I am calm.

A face says a thousand words, if you choose to listen... 


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