My Disjuncture

Why does the World see fit to test my will — my resolve?
Why does the Universe insist on tempting fate on my behalf?

I come, as I am — take me or leave me
Just give me back my shreds of dignity

My walls are always up, strong and tall
I used to think — impenetrable 

I added guards around the perimeter
Efficiency — my key signature

Guarding something precious and rare
Careful! Fragile, handle with care!

A rare glass heart resides there
Behind these walls I have built

Extraordinary measures have been taken
To defend this fragile heart and her fragments

She is encased in thick ice 
Must be protected in more ways than once or twice

She weeps in the heat of an argument
She melts when she sees a child smile at her
She stares at the broken pieces, the frozen fragments
She weeps again, angrily, without a solution
She wails when she remembers
She weeps because she wants to love again

The woman this rare glass heart belongs to
Is curious — she might surprise you

17 comments

  1. Complexity begets fragility. Fragility begets superheated emotions that are like supercooled water that turns to ice with the slightest agitation. So much to guard. So many fragments to glue together. It’s amazing how our wills are under constant attack. The emotional Berserkers never rest.

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      1. Speaking of Berserkers, did you know that Beowulf was gay? Not in the modern sense of gay but the Spartan sense of homosexuality. Laurie is working on a paper that is a queer reading of Beowulf. The title of the paper is “Gayowulf”.

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  2. The glass heart metaphor is truly heartbreaking 💔 Loved the imagery you created there with regards to a glass heart being encased in a fragile box.
    The last stanza is extremely touching and poignant. Your words reflect the pain you feel deep within and it is so palpable. I send prayers, healing and best wishes your way, my friend 💖

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  3. I always feel that surprise (“she might surprise you”) is an outcome of my perception. Please, may I take the liberty of expressing my perception?
    The character of ‘youlildickens, is mysterious. Someone who has traversed from the road of hell to a genius wordsmith. Or maybe it was the genius who created the character? Who knows? ‘My lady playeth her cards close to her breast. And indeed surprise would arise if ever she presenteth her cards!
    Yet shall I continue to rejoice at what she writes, whilst guarding her cards close to her breast.’ Bless you, Eleanor. Peter

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    1. In my book, no one should have to ask to take the liberty of expression. Of course, you may and I do appreciate the kind formality. Thank you for the lovely compliments!

      It is mysterious, isn’t it? Hahaha, I’ve been told I’m an enigma. I have a self-imposed rule that I try to adhere to, I refer to it as “writing for all” which is extraordinarily difficult to do. I think, whilst adhering to such I come off a little more mysterious than I realize. Then again, I do play my cards close to my breast, yes — an occupational hazard of being Eleanor Lorene Lowe. I guard my cards and my heart only revealing that which I desire others to know. Nevertheless, I do pride myself on transparency. Occasionally, you’ll see snippets of me in my posts, where my individuality peeks out and you can see little bits of my everyday life…

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