Widowed Without A Manual

Some of us grieve longer then others. I will not be rushed out of my love, that still inhabits my heart.

My Guard Was Down

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like a snare laid on the ground
camouflaged by fallen leaves
I step into the loop
captured once again

my defences were on leave
having planned my entry I did not suspect
the white flag was on display
as times passed
I extended my olive twig
instead of joyous congratulations
I was reciprocated by the
deathly silence

my ankles are worn from such similar times
when will the rabbit learn?
when will I know to walk with caution

If treated so by another
I would not fail to sever
there would be no repeats
of walking blind and placing
my self-esteem in the snare

Again I have been looped. If I could only reach that place in my life where I did not require acceptance from certain people. It is taking much energy to protect myself as B did. No arrows with poison tips got past him. He protected my artist self. B created an armour for himself I am having this lesson brought home repeatedly. I must start to weld myself an armour for I can only depend on myself.
There is so much that you share with a loved one. Add onto that years and years of working, living and playing together daily it is a lot to give up. It requires many people to fill his boots.

Or am I just a wimp!

Photo on 2014-10-25 at 11.46 #2

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Author: ilovecloudstoo

I live in Canada thought I was not born here. Newfoundland is where my heart breathes. Primarily I am a visual artist, welded and or cast bronze sculptures. Sylvia Plath may have been the seed planted in me that is creating poetry. Since then I have read so many great modern poets work. Art is my sustaining business poetry sustains my soul.

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