A paralysis of devotion, condoned by the historical drone of unresolved emotion. Every nerve ending cauterized to prevent my soul from being further traumatized. I hate myself for it. I relinquish my strength and fall upon the dagger razor sharp with questions, bloodied by my imagination. I am ashamed of it. I mediate my reaction and focus the need for tears into a crack in my heart’s armor. I relish the burn, screaming in welcome for I’d rather be ravaged with anger than rejection. I pity myself for it. I spit fire into the ink that bleeds with brokenness even though all appears whole and wholesome. I squeeze out every sigh evoked and paint the paper with my desperation. Someday, I will forgive myself for it.
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You have mastered the art of emotional expression in writing. Although not in the same context, sometimes I feel that way, I must say. You say it better than I can.
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I find it hard to imagine you ranting!! Your writing always gives me hope that there is a silver lining.
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Ranting, like cleansing, is good for the soul, don’t you think? Once it’s out, it can be gone and over and done. All of us have emotions we need to get off our chests. The blessing is to have a listening ear that doesn’t judge. (WP friends like me? 🙂 ) And you’re so sweet to toss in a compliment about my writing. 😉 Yes, I want to convey in my writing the type of optimism that never gives up hope. This concept, for me these days, is challenged on a daily basis as wave after wave of hardship tries to break me into submission.
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Beautifully written as always, and I like the image of spitting fire into the ink…very poignant.
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