In Her Eyes…
Please read the amazing poetry by a talented writer.
I see in her eyes now, the same indwellers as in her early years –-
anxiety and fear;
She is not who she was . . .
yet this host/tenant relationship remains the same
claiming, slowly, the life of one so young.
Charisma within crowds –- quick to jest;
underneath, though — alone with herself —
the addiction to fear and anxiety is insatiable . . .
Haunting her . . . always haunting . . .
trying desperately to survive,
she shares her dependence with those whom she loves:
I have boxes full . . .
We all have such boxes under our beds . . .
And we –- to our dismay — have given our share of boxes to the ones we love;
Freedom comes, however, in the opening not the storing;
the burden of addictions and attachments (self-created and those received) received as gifted opportunities.