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  • claralynne 3w

    To Be or Not To Be

    To live, petrified; pushing onward.
    Or to die, stagnant. Fear soothed.
    That is the question...
    ©claralynne

  • claralynne 4w

    LOST AND FOUND: Fair, Feral Feline

    You would not have found my face on a flier stapled to a pole on some road somewhere...
    Or on the side of a milk carton.
    But you should've...
    No one was looking for me though.
    No one wanted me.
    I was so lost when he found me.
    Wandering. Aimless...
    I knew I had made a wrong turn or two. But I had no idea how lost I actually was.
    I was dirty. From the inside out. Unkept. Malnourished.
    I hadn't had a bath in God knows how long.
    . .I mean actually HAD and ENJOYED a bath.
    Felt the warm water soothe my muscles and wash my bad days away.
    I tried to act like I knew where I was and that I was fine.
    He saw right through it.
    He took me in. Kept me warm.
    I could not remember the last time I had eaten.
    I could never find food wandering in the dark.
    I would always wait for the sun to come out, but it never did.
    It was like I fell asleep one night and just never woke up. And the nightmare never ended.
    I kept asking myself why he would want to help me.
    I was a feline on my ninth life, and I had come to terms with it at that point.

    Afraid to live.
    No longer a spunky cat that climbed trees.
    No twinkle in my eye.
    No more did I sunbathe and watch the birds fly high.
    To be blunt and honest, I was waiting to die.
    I was timid when I saw him at first. But I could tell his intentions were good.
    Scaredy cat.
    I thought to myself I didn't have anything to lose.
    The smallest little piece of me thought an angel had crossed my path.
    I had lost hope on that ever happening long ago.
    But Maybe...
    Just maybe ...
    I was saved?
    I just couldnt believe someone wanted to help me find "home "
    again.
    He made sure I ate good.
    He would rub me at night.
    I had forgotten how good it felt to actually purr.
    I had been in the wild for so long...never again did I think I'd be dreaming dreams in a cozy bed.
    Not that leaves and mulch couldn't be cozy, but I didn't miss it.
    And to think I always clowned on them domesticated kitty cats.
    I felt like a lucky dog.
    But you see, I had been in the wild for so long, it had somehow become part of me.
    Instilled.
    Feline so fair, yet with a feral side.
    I had it so good, but I shamefully found myself longing for that sense of freedom the came with the wild.
    My heart had become so full, and these thoughts world come.... And they ruined everything.
    Absolutely everything.
    And here I find myself wandering in the dark again.
    He just wanted to give me a home.
    He showed me that a filthy alley cat could be loved again.
    I had felt lovable for the first time since I could remember.
    I was mistaken.
    I knew nothing of freedom.
    I was only just learning what love was.
    and what it felt like to actually be loved.
    I had never felt anything like it.
    It was almost scary.
    More scary than the wild could be.
    Scaredy cat... that I was...
    And now here I am...
    The darkness I find myself roaming in once again is not freedom.
    Only the strong survive out here in the wild.
    Winters coming; it's already gotten so cold.
    There's not enough shelter for us all out here in the wild.
    If only I hadn't acted like such a child.
    Sometimes I wonder if he misses me and our night time cuddles.
    Does he look for me?
    Did he stapled my picture on a pole on a street somewhere?
    I miss how he'd give me those saucers of milk...
    All I know is that this is my ninth life. My last life.
    And I hope I can feel that feeling of home again before it's over.
    In the meantime, I will nestle in this mulch and leaves and find comfort.
    I will pretend....
    and reminisce on a happy time that I'm so very grateful to have had... no matter what.
    ©claralynne

  • claralynne 4w

    Rain And Tough Terrain

    I have grown tired.
    Tired of writing.
    Tired of fighting.
    Confiding.
    I'm not even sure what I'm fighting to gain.
    Is it days filled with sun or rain?
    Do I desire smooth sailing?
    You don't really learn anything that way.
    Rain and tough terrain...
    That's what will cure this pain. That's what'll get me off this plane. This plateau of nothing.
    A purpose is what I seek; it's what I desire.
    I loath the day that I lost my fire.
    A perfect storm.
    It came and all turned to ash.
    Cold, wet ashes.
    Rain and tough terrain...
    It comes again and again.
    And now, I just sit back and wait to see what will transpire.
    But I already know that's not how it works.
    The answer lurks.
    I need to hold my head higher.
    The Phoenix cannot rise above and fly if I'm not holding my chin up high.
    Rain and tough terrain.
    It's causes me so much pain.
    How will the Phoenix ever fly from the ash if the rain keeps falling?
    I can't help but wish the sun would quit stalling.
    I'm so tired.
    I wish the skies would quit bawling.
    At least at night.
    So that I could write. And poor my feelings out on a blank page of white.
    As I understand it, storms come and go.
    This storm is slow.
    Its hard to remember who I was when the storm began, what seems so long ago...
    I'm missing that spark; that inner desire.
    Stagnant. UnInspired.
    Rain and tough terrain...
    It ought to clear up soon, I'm sure. It just has to....
    I know there's more to my world than just cold,wet ashes. So much more.
    So as tired as I am, I will conquer this tough terrain no matter how far it may go.
    And I will charge through the rain until it clears.
    Tired eyes with tears.
    Face-to-face with my fears.
    Fighting through the storm.
    My destiny.
    Trusting the universe.
    Finding my answers through time.
    Knowing the Phoenix will fly in due time.
    ©claralynne

  • claralynne 4w

    Learning to Fy

    Chasing.
    Sunsets & dreams; My flock.My kind.
    Darkness surrounds; light gleams thru seams.
    Spread my wings.
    &FLY.
    Run no more.
    Awakening.
    Reckoning.

    ©claralynne

  • claralynne 6w

    #WOD #words # WordofDay

    Read More

    Words.

    Sneaky, heartless villian that can be jagged and puncture the soul.
    Or letters and terms that mean nothing.
    A beast that will feast if fed.
    ©claralynne

  • claralynne 10w

    The Short, Serene In-between

    Is there even a word?
    For that brief, beautiful moment.
    That perfect, peaceful nothingness.
    A rather strange, yet comfortable feeling.
    Everything that brings the heart pain, forgotten.
    The dawn meets the eye.
    Serene sentiment.

    Suddenly,
    Pain and memory return.
    Then comes dread.
    A Cumbersome existence hinders.
    Digging deep.
    Finding strength.
    To Get out of bed.

  • claralynne 10w

    Turned TableS

    I used to eat my dinner on the floor.
    It was cold down there,
    and it hadn't been swept.
    When I was done with my feast, Id find myself wanting more.
    It was there on the floor that I wept.
    Feeling empty, longing to be full.
    Hungrier than I was before, I always looked forward to my next to meal.
    I would find myself missing the table that I once had.
    And Suppers that used to be so hot I'd have to wait for it to cool.
    Sometimes I'd light candles and admire their glow.
    And try to convince myself that eating down there wasn't that bad.
    Bunnies of dust all around.
    The once beautiful cherry hardwood covered in dirt.
    I had convinced myself that I didn't need a table like everyone else as I would eat my dessert.

    But then one day I decided that it would be nice to have a place enjoy my meal.
    And that I didn't have to sit down low with all the dust dirt and grime.
    I deserved a table damnit. It was finally time.
    And so I got a table, sturdy not too big, not too small.
    And I remember the first meal I ate -- the most tender and delicious ribeye steak.
    And in the very middle was a twinkling candle that stood tall.
    No more did I eat among the bunnies below that made my stomach churn.
    I finally felt like somebody.
    The tables had turned.

    No more did I feel the sadness as I watched that candle burn.
    Something so simple to most.
    But it's something I've desperately yearned.
    Finally. Feeling like a person.
    Worthy.
    Smiling.
    Meticulously slicing the steak on my plate.
    Feeling satisfied and full after each meal I ate.

    I always hated when he flipped the table.
    And the dinner I slaved would tumble to the floor.
    I wish I didn't have to eat like that anymore.
    Silly dreams, dirty floors, and metaphors.
    Empty inside down to the core. A heart that is sore.
    Dirty little whore.
    Because I got the wrong sauce when I went to the store.
    And now I sit and feast on dinner in the floor.
    Among the dust bunnies. I listen to the beast roar.

  • claralynne 11w

    "Dirty LeaveS"

    Dirty leaves
    I feel like I'm always down.
    I have found home on the ground.
    Eerie silent sound of death all around.
    Summer grieves...
    Silence broken by the breeze.
    It's moments like that where I can finally breathe.
    Feeling so heavy, I manage to look up.
    Parched, I wait for the rain to fill my cup.
    Dry dirt and dirty hands, I bury my sorrows.
    Longing for sunny tomorrows.
    But it will be cold soon.
    And the trees will soon dance nude.
    Something about that is beautiful to me.
    A comforting sight to see.
    Trees become light dancing in the night.
    On a dirt floor.
    That will soon be white.
    Oh, what a ravishing sight.
    Days to come filled with more grey..
    Ghostly, unremarkable.
    I can only hope the silver lining shines bright.
    I hope the cold days to come don't make me too numb.
    And that I continue to see the beauty of the mother that is Earth.
    And that my knees don't give out before spring's birth.
    I hope I hear the sweet of songs of new life .
    And that the chilling sound of death fades into the past.
    And that the dirty leaves leave...and are replaced with vibrant, green blades of grass.
    I'm down on my knees.
    I just don't know how much longer these knees can last.
    ©claralynne

  • claralynne 12w

    Awed by Autumn

    Sweet September Dusks...
    Trees show how to let go soon.
    The end bares beauty.

  • claralynne 13w

    FRIDAY

    I miss the way Friday used to make me feel.
    Waiting for the bell to sound. 
    Days ahead imminently amazing; happiness-bound.

    But now it doesn't matter if Friday's around.
    Or even if my feet touch the ground. 
    Floating on my cloud---round round and round.
    Looking for a meaning... a purpose... or anything profound. 
    What day is it; What time is it? 
    Is the clock even wound?
    Oh what Id do to wind back the clock. 
    To a Friday with afternoon bells and boards covered in chalk. 
    And nights with friends where'd we'd giggle and talk. 

    "Be kind, rewind" on all cassettes. 
    Simple fun and pleasure. Scrunchies and barrettes. 
    Innocent minds and souls. Too young for regrets

    But now, with Friday comes a haze. 
    Days of the week...in a daze. 
    Dazed in the days. 
    Weak at the end of the week. 
    Living in a blur. 
    Walking's a stagger. And talking's a slur. 

    If you can just make it to Friday, that's what they always say. 
    That's when it will all be okay. 
    But how is that so?
    When it's like any other day..
    When time makes no sense and is in constant disarray. 

    I mss how Fridays used to make me feel.
    When I used to laugh for real. 
    When the weekend was tomorrow, and I had nothing but time to kill. 

    The aroma of bacon would feel the air the next morning.
    But now, I'm just mourning....for Friday's that don't exist.
    In a heartbeat, I'd go back.
    I would not resist.
    To hear that Bell again. And a class be dismissed.
    Movie nights With Friends- '10 things I hate about You' and Never been kissed'
    Tart, candy braclets half-eaten on my wrist.
    Goodnight hugs from my mother---Too many things to list.
    Those are the Fridays that I have missed. 

    If I can just make it to Friday....
    For a bit longer... If I can just subsist.
    For now I'll just relish in the fog of nostalgic Friday mist. 
    ©claralynne