3d5e44b257578850726dffec1e5af373If we are honest
few things are honest anymore
everything is manipulated or
viewed through a lens
where is truth?
truth isn’t what most people want
not really
if a woman says
do my thighs look big in this?
is she asking for truth? or encouragement?
sometimes truth burns
sometimes it’s like an assault
if you live in the path of truth too long
you become immune to its sting
and nothing can hurt you anymore
but freedom
is not for everyone
 
the truth was
she hadn’t loved me in an eternity
if at all
whilst that felt like acid on my soul
it released the hope
to find another host
someone maybe who wasn’t being lied to
told she was the most beautiful
told she hadn’t aged a day
told she was the only one
how often is that so in a crowded world?
Disney would have us believe
frequently
but love
the real kind that doesn’t like the over-used name
that love is rarer than anything
maybe it doesn’t touch every person
you have to be capable of it
few are
it takes a humility of spirit and a depth
this society doesn’t encourage
 
the only way forward
listen to your gut
the feeling of worms and knives being turned
tells you when something isn’t right
even if others protest so loudly
it splits darkness from night
hold on to your truth
it’s there on the edges of deception
always reflecting never concealing
how easy it is
to believe someone when they say
it will only ever be you
there will be no one else
you are irreplaceable
how easy to want that to be true
 
but we are only savages playing in
high heels and wigs
we are wolves sitting at wooden pews
kneeling before weeping effigies
is it any wonder they cry for us?
we are children licking our sticky fingers
and plundering the honey jar
we are humans without conscience
if we briefly entertain it
soon we’re running in the opposite direction
for it takes the end of ego to
go to war with illusion
far better to sup on the drug that promises
a less sorrowful life
 
who wants to believe they are not
the one who will be loved
the one who will be held dearly
who wants to believe it might not
happen to them?
rather we deceive ourselves gladly
for one toke of the pipe
one last hit
a quick injection of bliss
to believe even as the voice inside says
this is not real
the fantasy, the fairy tale
we grew up thinking showed us
the future
as faulty as a soothsayer
gazing into empty crystal
there are no answers in lies
 
so when she told you
you were everything to her
she omitted the part that came after
unless you’re no longer
in which case another
will in time replace you
and you will walk alone as you
always have
wondering why
your heart was built of
fur
prickling from the
inside
out

0 Replies to “Fur”

    1. Dear Wallace, that means so much you saying that, I long admired your work as you know, and so for you to say you were captivated by this, well thank you so much for saying so, you just made me so happy.

  1. ”I am permitted to see the dawn of another year. And I am thankful that I may read your writings that can touch even the deepest part of my life. Over all the unopened years of my heart – I could not dare to even believe that someone could reach in and open life up. Like a light being shone into my soul- There can be no experience of friendship until someone is willing to go the extra mile- And when you do go the extra mile- it is seldom crowded.I am conscious of my weaknesses- My utter despair for truth and reality. It is when we give to others- and the return is emptiness. Then it is when sorrow grips me once again- and I find some remote place to walk and to think. We think we can never go on anymore- That the sun can never shine for us again( for me) I desire always to walk erect and unwearied- along life’s paths, I read your blogs with delight because they are real. Also within my heart the Italian in me cries out for- that deep emotional communication. To laugh, to cry, to argue and move forward. I maybe expect too much from life- but your writing’s reveal to me – that I am fine- a little naive maybe- but love will always shine forth in any real friendship. Thank you for taking the time to write and express more. I am humbled. . Robert Vincent

  2. I need to study this for a little while before I can tell if it makes sense to me or if it even applies to me and the shallow end of the pool I live in. I have the feeling that I could die in the depths of your words. Or maybe live. I’m not sure which side of the curtain I’m on yet. Let me read it again.

    1. Okay – I think I get it. It’s about relationships – the beginnings and endings of them. It’s about whether it’s better to lie (and please) or tell the truth (and offend) and what those things mean in the long term. It’s about love and loss but also about love and hope too. It’s about the way there are no certainties in love. It’s about the wild side of our nature and the ways that, despite our inherent strength, we run and hide (and lie and cheat) when things get too much.
      I don’t get this bit, though – “hold on to your truth
      it’s there on the edges of deception
      always reflecting never concealing”
      I love the ending. I love the way that makes me feel. I have to go and eat now. 🙂
      Kindness – Robert.

  3. Your presence is so powerful, your words are real in a way that few things are in this world.
    I’m so glad I discovered you, I must have read every post on your blog and found not a word of it wasted my time. Thank you
    Lately I have been run ragged by life and find precious few moments alone to write, and I have found myself instead strolling in your groves with your whispers all around me in the trees. Your writing has been a balm to my battered muse.
    You are a REAL person, and it is comforting for me to be here in your prose, like sitting with a dear friend without speaking, drawing strength from the nearness of heart.
    Your pen hand reaches down to stroke the fur of my beast, and I recall the smell of the forest where once I ran four footed and wild. Thank you
    May you be blessed always

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