Secrets of the Assault

22 Nov. 2013

Today I felt something bold, liberating

something strong and free that had my hands shaking

something I'd feared would someday overtake me

and, without thinking, I embraced it.

 

And I tried to hold on to this freedom; at last

energy had sprung up, and not from the past

but the future, oh the many roles I could cast

and oh the many forms I could take.

 

It's hard to believe after all of this time

that now that I'm here, I've got something to hide

I have brand-new secrets I could bury inside

and the decision is solely my own.

 

And I was SO MATURE on the funeral pyres

of all my emotions and all my desires

because adults like it if you can walk through the fires

without ever feeling a thing.

 

"It's O.K. to be weak," but they secretly wish

that, just for once, their comfort wouldn't be missed,

that they could run along and strength would replenish

from an alternative source.

 

So I chose myself and I went it alone

and I tried not to ask for help from my own

family and friends, and now what I know

is I cannot feel a thing.

 

I suppose I could be happy or I could be sad,

but I couldn't be romantic and I couldn't be mad

I couldn't fall in love because "that selfish lad"

would hurt me and leave me in tears.

 

And oh I'm protected and oh I'm so safe

but these ropes 'round my wrists are beginning to chafe

I see something worth trying, worth my tears, worth the chase,

and finally they start to let go.

 

Maybe if I'd seen a little more pain,

a little more sorrow, a little less gain

fewer days of sunshine and a little more rain,

then I would have been prepared.

 

But maybe if the outside saw the hope from above

that gives me my light and makes me feel loved

it would remove the armor and gloves

and join hands and stand strong for peace.

 

And I guess the emotion I felt today

is gone now, burned out, fluttered away

because sensibility is the rule I obey

and maybe that's fine, after all.

Author's Note

Do these rhymes and partial rhymes sound too forced?

Reviews

[Tam Warink]

Not forced but perhaps like an internal discourse. As readers, sometimes we can bond easily with a piece simply because of the story/message and/or the visuals but something like this that appears deeply personal is often lacking those experiential references that might otherwise complete the writer-reader bond. Paradoxically it strains to speak plainly and yet seems fearful of doing so. If this is the case then we are left to wonder why - and perhaps that is intentional. Either way it is articulate and gets good points for that in my opinion.