Comfort in her chaos

For she had a storm so strong inside of her,

She would leave an aftermath 

inside every person, she had touched

Dangerously flawed was her chaos, 

that yet, 

could give the weakest, comfort

Brittle was her heart, 

broken was her mind

Yet untouched was her inner being

She built walls so high, 

She herself could not climb them

She would never be understood, 

not even the strongest attempt a success, 

for she herself did not acquire the knowing

Of what made her the way she is 

and how long she would, to herself, 

remain a mystery

Reviews

[Karen Redburn]

This is a darkly haunting piece. I myself have felt that way, especially in periods of depression. We can definitely be a mystery to ourselves. Excellent words describing difficult topic. Welcome to WC and I look forward to reading more of your poetry!