מצטער (sorry)

That black stone of pain, is one that I made.
Swimming in your soul.
It’s an ugly product of how I behaved.
Dark as a lump of coal.
But I cannot erase, that blood or pain.
Or opening doors to fears.
But in my heart, I feel such shame.
Let me cry out my sorrowful tears.
And patch the wound with sincere light.
With apologies made in heaven.
That wrap around and bind so tight.
Crumbling that stone through my confession.

(To all, have a meaningful Yom Kippur)

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Revelation

Show the world who you are.
Dripped in honey and absinthe.
Hovering by a flame.
All parts, never the same.
As they try to push you under a reason.
A statement, a label, or part treason.
When you smash the brackets of age that constricts.
And you pull down the gods for a closer look.
They’ll see you reflect in their eyes.
Please, memorise their apology.
And wave as they pass you by.

Heartbeat weary

My lungs are aching and my legs are tired.
Trying to keep up with you.
Running for your freedom, leaving me behind.
Washed over and smashed, like a stone in the river.
Jagged, not smoothed by your love.
And all the while I cheer you on, applaud your departure.
Sometimes enough is just enough.
Too long have I thrown the rocks of reality at you.
Hurling mud and indifference.
Dirtying your window of tolerance.
Now it’s fight, flight, flee, collapse.
Feeling my heartbeat overbeat.
Waiting for it to cease.
Making it easier to leave.