When Will She Come?

I hear the silence in the wind
that comes when she descends.
If I hold my breath just long enough
Maybe I’ll wake up inside of her arms.
I wish to be swept away into a better day,
Another time where no worry plagues my mind;
Where the water laps softly at my feet;
Where I can sing inside a blanket of peace.
I am distant here, smiling before the sadness
Where the dogs gnaw at my ankles, rabid
Sweating, drooling their way into my dismay.
Will she come tomorrow and rescue me?
Will she touch and please the desperate me?
I walk outside my doorway into the bitter chill;
I am being held here against my will,
Inside this world so unfamiliar and muddled
Where the masses are huddled, troubled,
Crying, dying, grieving and screaming.
I am not comfortable here. This is not my home.
This place is foreign, and I feel desperately alone.
Hey mama, I’m fighting urges to run again.
I’m tired of being the poster child for pretend;
Tired of struggling; tired of fighting for air;
Tired of the footsteps over my soul so bare.
I have no tears left. The well dried long ago.
I have only stories, aching to be told.
I have only broken bones and pain to set me free;
I have only punishment for all my painful deeds.
Still I hold my hand upon this winding will of hope.
When she comes I will run to greet her and elope.
You are not familiar in your humanistic state.
I cannot waste my energy on your endless debates.
Inside me lives another girl who longs the time of leave,
When to my lips She enters air, allowing me to breathe.
How do I hold to love and passion here inside this pain?
It is her voice above the night. She sings her love’s refrain.
She calls to me. She bids me wait. She breaks the bitter leaves,
And all that’s left are invisible drops cried into my sleeves.

by Vennie
copyright @ DBV Publishing 2009