Some days will never come

There are many things about myself I may never revel. It’s not that I’m ashamed or somehow mentally incapable of doing so but more the preference of wanting to preserve those pieces of me, for me- and in their current pristine brokenness. We all have that special space tended to like a private museum. They will always have a special value but again, only I could ever decipher them honestly. I’m not implying I would never share them with someone someday- in some future time or place; should such a person be made available in some day.

What I do share with others, friends and mere acquaintance always has some tinge of reluctance; however, with that being stated, I’ve come to filter what feels safe to unveil, while weighing what might be nefariously misunderstood by cynics seeking a more negative facet of me predicated on prior myth. And yet, to be further honest- I suspect there will remain a handful of aspects that will never see the light of day.  In part they haven’t been resolved within myself,nor with any others involved in the right openly and honest setting while affording me every opportunity to be more of an inquisitor than a victim;should such a witness be so brazen to honestly answer questions I personally put before them.

They will mostly likely become letters written- unsent, knowing when writing they will never be answered by anyone, but instead join the echoes time loses- somewhere far from here.  Which simply deepens my resolve in trusting that… some days will never come.

Poet of the Light © 2018

11 thoughts on “Some days will never come

    1. I relate to that. I think in part for me at least, some of it is really out of protection to those we care about. Not being complicit in perverting their mind with such ugliness, not to mention not always finding the right words to honestly depict that past dark reality or frame of mind in today’s words. thanks so much for reading and commenting…

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    1. I appreciate what you’re saying but I honestly never bought into that adage of “letting go”. That concept in my mind seemed to devalue me as a person, as well as what I had to endure. Thereby making me an accomplice to the past after the fact. I prefer, at least in my little mind to convert that ugliness into something more beautiful, even if but through self expressions others share in, making it something I want to claim, want to keep with me in some emotional and triumphant way.

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      1. I agree. Emptying thoughts onto paper still leaves us connected to them. For me, it’s more shifting the weight of those thoughts to something physical so I can look at them from a different perspective. It also allows more room to organize the thoughts that have not been written so they, too, can find their way to some scribble.

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      2. Shhh don’t type organize too loud or my ego might hear the letters being clacked, wake up and go on some narcissistic maniacal revamping and screw everything up again. I enjoy my mess, plus I know where to find everything just as it is….

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      3. Didn’t mean to type ORGANIZE out loud. I will type on my phone next time – no key clicks there at all so the ego should remain asleep, therefore avoiding any tidying of the mess you are accustomed to 🙂

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