1100 o’clock Panic

Sulphurous memories make me reek of you;

dark alleys behind my eyes reverberate to blind beggars’ sighs.

And as I wait in that endless night with all hope fractured… lost from sight

I realise

There are no tears that taste so sweet

as those when forgiven and forgiveness meet.

 

Violent beauty touching the air with a lovers caress

And as you taste that final breath…

As fingers spasm and reach for me…

did you at least… at last feel free

 

To touch the rain that weaves its silken path across that face who fills my past…

With laughter

With joy

With pain and disaster, the memories forever after….

 Melancholy….

 

The thinnest breath…

That magic chord between life and death

A whisper

Reaches through tendrils to stroke your pain

No gentle pretence…

The scent of this day lingers when words have faded to silence.

 

Imperfection, the impulse that points in your direction…

Points the way to your ascension

Points the way to desolation for those you left behind.

 

Shadows flit; they dance with you through time and space

To cloak you in the Godless grace

That seismic shift of dark and light

Is softened as you enter night… and all you know is changed forever

 

Did you know some hesitation…

Before that leap to end it all, before you took that final fall

The hormones that humanize us all,

That fill this empty space with dense vibrations…

Have stalled.

 

The brittle laughter stutters to silence… to softness in the reflection of you

Selfishness becomes selfless with the morning dew

Silence so loud it deafens me as I realise … as at last I see

That all that there is…. that all that remains

Are vibrations, whispers and tear stains.

Elizabeth McCombie

Elizabeth McCombie

My name is Liz (Ruby Woo tag came post brain injury when I couldn't remember my name… long story, but there was definite logic in there… honest!) I discovered ninjutsu a couple of years ago by accident while looking for ways to improve my general health and mobility (again blame the brain injury, though prefer to blame my mate who I had asked to find me a local yoga class….which led me to think ninjutsu was a form of yoga!) Anyway, I fell in love with martial arts that night. Loved the fact that no one gave a stuff that I was a lassie or that I had a habit of shooting off on the wrong direction (I have a bit of time delay in getting the message from my brain to my body). Despite having had to miss time actual training because of some continuing health shenanigans, I rarely miss a class even if all I can do is watch. What this also gave me was the confidence to start writing again. Losing the ability to read and write after my accident has made me more than a little paranoid about my spelling and grammar capabilities. And my style of layout I have been told is unusual. But I write in the way that makes sense to my brain.
Elizabeth McCombie

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