01-26-2013, 11:33 PM
I am really very touched by the amount of positive feedback you all have given me -- and what wasn't a direct compliment was incredibly helpful; it has been a win-win.
I stopped writing after college when the relationship I was in became abusive in tandem with my MS symptoms starting to flare (without, of course, me knowing why). I lost a decade of my life to the person I was with, then even more of it to an incurable, progressive disease. More than several other bad things happened during that time, and several more have happened since. Then something amazing happened and I found (and married) my soulmate then finished losing a hundred pounds. I am able to start writing again... not much nor as often as I would like, but anything is better than the blank space without it. Thank you all so much.
Here is a rework. I love/utilized all the input and have been playing with the lines; advise? I hope to be repaying all of your kindnesses on the boards soon.
------------------------
I love words but stopped reading
two years ago when my eyes stopped
finding joy in it. Late nights by a hallway’s glow
after family went to bed or in college or
at any time in my life at any time of day
are now memories included in The Life I Had, which truth be told
is comprised of troubled working parts I abandon with great relief.
I once had a favorite book:
while it for so long encompassed the whole of me I no longer know
that it could anymore or which new story might. To simply listen
still robs the grit of lines embossed into a page; their shape
and span and ink and even whether there was a serif made
the personality of each letter as they appeared
on a stage with curtains scalloped in the center.
I love painting but my vision burns the edges or middle off
details in the whole when I stand back to scrutinize. I cannot trust
my hands with the curves of a body or especially the fine grout in an eyelid.
I love walking but every proper or misstep fires from groin through thighs and
I love sleeping but do so now best in smaller increments during certain times and
I love swallowing and I love having an even pulse and I love
thinking outside the fog of frayed axons and I love
remembering and I love
I love I love
silver linings. I love knowing
why it is
I have become so very, very good at falling.
I stopped writing after college when the relationship I was in became abusive in tandem with my MS symptoms starting to flare (without, of course, me knowing why). I lost a decade of my life to the person I was with, then even more of it to an incurable, progressive disease. More than several other bad things happened during that time, and several more have happened since. Then something amazing happened and I found (and married) my soulmate then finished losing a hundred pounds. I am able to start writing again... not much nor as often as I would like, but anything is better than the blank space without it. Thank you all so much.
Here is a rework. I love/utilized all the input and have been playing with the lines; advise? I hope to be repaying all of your kindnesses on the boards soon.
------------------------
I love words but stopped reading
two years ago when my eyes stopped
finding joy in it. Late nights by a hallway’s glow
after family went to bed or in college or
at any time in my life at any time of day
are now memories included in The Life I Had, which truth be told
is comprised of troubled working parts I abandon with great relief.
I once had a favorite book:
while it for so long encompassed the whole of me I no longer know
that it could anymore or which new story might. To simply listen
still robs the grit of lines embossed into a page; their shape
and span and ink and even whether there was a serif made
the personality of each letter as they appeared
on a stage with curtains scalloped in the center.
I love painting but my vision burns the edges or middle off
details in the whole when I stand back to scrutinize. I cannot trust
my hands with the curves of a body or especially the fine grout in an eyelid.
I love walking but every proper or misstep fires from groin through thighs and
I love sleeping but do so now best in smaller increments during certain times and
I love swallowing and I love having an even pulse and I love
thinking outside the fog of frayed axons and I love
remembering and I love
I love I love
silver linings. I love knowing
why it is
I have become so very, very good at falling.