If I were to raise my voice your fragile heart would shatter and tear crescents into the soles of our feet. We are actors of necessity. Our words are cold and diaphanous like an angel’s wings before death. My unsmiling mouth fills your body with contempt. Each time I approach your borders it is taken as a boast of enmity. Blood makes it personal but bridges require substance and substantiation. If I were to open my hands my heart would weep itself dry. You love the idea of love, the ideal of mother and daughter. My pain brightens your halo: my pain looks better on you than it does on me.
About the Poet:
Yves K. Morrow lives in Sweden with her husband and soon to be teenage daughter. Mindlovemisery reflects the subjects most extensively explored in her poetry. Mind- philosophy, psychology, mental illness, society Love- loss, unrequited, infatuations and obsessions, sex, true love, new love, relationships of all sorts both dysfunctional and sublime Misery- childhood trauma, Depression, living with PTSD, the search for meaning, loneliness, spiritual dilemmas grief, social ineptitude etc. Aside from writing and inspiring others to write Yves enjoys reading, training, dancing poorly, absurdity and sarcasm.
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