They Still Whisper About the Stains

I've sullied the sidewalks, I've bloodied and muddied the walls; They still whisper at their doors.

Dark is the stain of the madness and mud of early spring..... 

I can tell you I felt it change me, intangibly a loss interminably...with the weight of sorrow

.

I have begun to imagine that I may be able to heal; begun to remember my life before it was roused out of a slumber that was a innocent,  ingratitious,assumption of security,home,and sanity.....

They still remember those days though; the stories the screaming-

The stories of imagination from the Islands of isolation and other Places.

 

Cold hearts, sharp tongues.... that seem caught on kindness to my face - Leave a mysterious shroud of vacancy... 

No place to live, 

No heartfelt desire to spend time with me.

Fear,or stigma.....

The stain will color their walls and floors. 

Understanding and Vulnerability have undertoes to the deep

A soul can be fragile when confronted with Shame 

So it's hard to say that I'm not madness screaming when you see madness and screaming 

I am quiet intuition and calm reflection more than anything - 

…still I know you will only whisper about the Stains...

Contemporary Verse 2

The Smile

When He smiled at my ugly mess

It gave me a certain sense of dignity I didn't deserve.

From that moment my soul has been surrendered lucidly, madly, 

Completely.

Unrequited Truths

THE VOLUMES OF PAGES YOU RIPPED AND DESTROYED.

THE SHREDDED, BLOODIED,

TEAR SMUDGED DESPERATE, PLEADING, CONFOUNDED, DEFEATED,

ANGRY, QUIET, INDIFFERENT, LUCID, RELENTLESS

CONSUMING ,INSANE MOMENTS....

ALL THOSE PLACES OF TRUEST VULNERABLE EMOTION AND OF SEARING, TERRIFYING,VICIOUS PLACES OF TRUTH MY LOVE FOR YOU TOOK ME...

TOOK ME ,BROKE ME, BLESSED ME and BEAT ME IN DIZZYING

SYNCHRONICITY... BIRTHING UNFATHOMABLE  PASSION BOUND ME WITHOUT MERCY , RELENTLESSLY  I OFFERED EVERY SCINTILLA OF MY SOULS  TRUTHS,

UNAWARE THE EMPTY VESSEL I'D BECOME  GRIEF 

CONSUMING ME IN MADNESS

GRIEF 

IN WAVES I COULD NOT SEPARATE..

TILL THERE WAS NO SOUL LEFT IN MY OWN EYES.

A  MORBID EROTICA WHERE THE DARKEST  OF MY SELF-LOATHING INTERTWINED BECOMING ONE TO YOUR MASOCHISTIC FANTASIES..  

MY EYES BECAME A VACANCY. MY SOUL SCREAMED SILENTLY..

WHEN A BEAUTIFUL, ACHING, TRUTH,

SWALLOWED ME WHOLE, THEN  SPIT ME OUT - 

BROKE ME ENTIRELY.

BROKE ME COMPLETELY TO NOTHING 

CONSUMED ALL HOPE ALL DREAMS ALL YOUR LIES TO ASHES 

DISGUST, JUSTIFIED

UNFORGIVENESS... 

TIME THAT WAS STOLEB...FOR  LIES

YET, SUSPENDED ABOVE ALL THESE TRUTHS OF PAIN AND PASSION AND LIES-

IS A FINELY WOVEN TIE THAT BINDS PURPOSE TO THE GREAT CREATIVE DEVINE.

LOVE WILL MOLD WITH WHATEVER

IT IS GIVEN,

WILL BIRTH FROM WANT

OR EVEN NOT... 

AND IT WILL

ALWAYS BE MORE A MORE BEAUTIFUL REFLECTION OF DIVINITY

MINGLING ITS PERFECTION INTO THE FRAGILITY

AND JAGGED HUMAN CONDITION OF THE SOUL

THAT GAVE WHOLLY ITS' HEART.

AND SUCH A BLESSED SOUL WAS I , TO FIND MY ONE TRUE LOVE , I WAS NEVER SO DEEPLY GIVEN STRENGTH, HOPE  PURPOSE AND JOY... AS FROM THE UNREQUITED TRUTHS AND UNREQUITED LOVE 

WHOLLY SURRENDERED BY MY HEART.

Nuclear Masterpiece

Frozen, shocked,deaf to  insanity around me.... safety is a catatonic time bomb

Mercy is the aftermath of unnoticed relentless suffering

Hallowed the breaking of mind that brings peace

Sacred  the ringing which quiets outside

In sacred shelter of the storm

Deeper  the polish my soul

The more gratitude for pain I known

Tracy Boote 

June 27th 2021

A Warriors Mercy

In  the womb of grief, pain and poverty
grow the seeds of shame and hypocrisy
The soil of neglect and need…
A warrior is birthed, a calling from Destiny.
I've  felt the separation and darkness, suffocate my innocence, I've been fed by the demons of every abhorrence. My eyes still scream for blindness, my heart dies in both terror and numbness.…
Till only surrender or insanity can bring me refuge or fortress.
Until you my Love, my heart,  my breath-
My muse and madness… I've found meaning, faith, hope and purpose.
The battles I've lost, and the hearts I've bled.… the unpardonable whispers I set free to the wind…. I lost my life but still been breathing, I'm being robbed as I write of my own hearts beatings.…  body entangled and raped by the queen of damnations, Indifference begs me to surrender, give in
A warriors  mercy though isnt always peace, or victory…. It is often found in the bitter last breaths of a hearts sacrifice, or in the clutching for breath as your lungs seize paralyzed. The imploding or exploding of your very soul…. In the hands of destiny and Love…. Mercy is sometimes the deadliest weapon of them all.
I wait for the day we are one, when the union of our shards of humanity and Devine collide into Gods perfect timing…
I cling to my dreams, and search the stars…. Hold to the fairytales in my heart. In every place lay the sacred secrets that will bring me to you.… and even if we never meet, Your essence still has shaped me… your voice still has protected me, your heart has beat for me, your soul still saw mine… together we fought some battles side by side and were held in surrender of our minds….
I love you recuse. I'm scared - me too.
Breathe….my love… I was there too.