Let them go

The words dance in my head,
And I listen to them,
And then I let them go.
Because, you know,
Their waltz, you have all said,
Isn’t what you came here for.
They aren’t why I started either,
Though they were always there,
Moving to the beat of the fire,
That burns fiercely,
Blistering my insides,
Never allowed to bubble out.

But, what if I unleashed them,
Set them free to raze,
Would I find relief then?
A lie, a sin,
They would spiral round all prim,
Elegant and impeccable timing,
A show for all to praise and watch,
But even at that hour of the clock,
I would find no peace in the ticks and tocks,
To spill the blaze here,
Would be to disappoint others,
And that pain would be far worse.

So, I shall endure for a time,
As best I can,
With the flames eating my soul.
I’ll hide the toll,
Of this facade, this ruse, this grime,
That is the brave face I wear,
Despite the obvious cracks and tears,
And the holes, where flames grew too near,
Doused quickly to hide my fear,
But the singed edges remain,
And the tatters thin and break away,
Until, I need not worry, for nothing will be left.

“and then *poof* he was gone”

5 thoughts on “Let them go

  1. This place right here is yours, dear sir
    And let the letters waltz, if waltz they will
    But never let the fear of disappointing others
    Or letting them down, prevent your spill
    Of whatever is within your heart to write
    For bottled in, the pressures rise
    I fear you won’t feel right and ill-
    Used words prove hollow prize.

    My wish for you, if wishes be
    Allowed to wend into the wires
    And twixt them find a way for you
    To write whate’er your heart desires
    For whatever we’ve got in our heads
    Whichever Jester, Man or King
    If heart and truth aren’t in his words
    We really don’t have anything

    And yet, with dire hypocrisy
    I’ll say, my all I’ll NEVER scribe
    For fear of damaging onslaught
    Which would doubtless rend my tribe
    And so, dear Jester, King and Man
    Whilst here, it’s clear we’re connoisseurs
    We’ll enjoy all you choose to write
    And celebrate what you prefer.

  2. Nothing you write will ever disappoint me.
    Poetry, sadness, silliness, fiction – you could publish your grocery list and I’m not going anywhere.
    So there. xoxoxoxo

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