An Open Letter

You took it from me

In the harshest way you could

But I gave it to you

Otherwise how would i be standing here crying

The shame

Confusion

I believed more than anything

All became my fall

Nothing my recluse

My retreat

My reprieve from the damage and pain

 

I tried tying and tying the laces of belief

Weaving a woven wonder of faith and submission of my own

Until the threads whittled dry and unfamiliar

My own laces untied before my very eyes as I descended (ascended?) tripping and slipping over my words, my heart my mind.

 

I'm sick of it all. Points are softened and lose meaning when everything is a circle.

 

But I'm trying still, stilled the erupting voices of descension and tension filling every cavity of my being. What am I being.. but the meaning is lost as inconclusiveness is tossed up and down to and fro and I am lost and what it cost is more than me and the meaning.

I knew it all but couldn't stop. I knew nothing but tried.

 

Still trying but why.

 

A song often too heard, too often ignored.