Cathartic Tether

Sun hitting her cold skin,
Listening to the familiar strum of a rhythm guitar.

Rubbing her fingers beneath her eyes,
Spreading,
Dragging the crestfallen tears.
Erasing any indication that sadness resided there.
Quivering lip,
A deep gasp taken,
Forcefully holding captive what has been in the dark for weeks.

Laying back in her wicker armchair,
Admiring the green leaves whimsically shifting,
Made partially transparent as sunlight rips through their veins,
Sensing the tingling breeze grant the warmth reprieve,
She warily ponders,
Why she ends so many conversations imprisoned by sadness.

A personal expedition,
Only shapeless words at first.
Words are what give her wholeness.


The judgement hurts her,
It carves tremulous holes in the wall she has built.
Perforating something unnamed,
Present demons confused for past battles.
She is unsure why she has fallen so far.

Tears slowly falling,
The water acting as glue,
She comfortably seals her eyes shut.
Rapid post-modern flashbacks.
This moment,
A cathartic tether coddled in utter trepidation,
A steady signal,
Anchoring these impelling emotions to a compilation of thoughts,
Magnifying into focus as her proverbial hand steadies.

She hopes she isn't too late.


She wills her spirit to take her back to where she was before,
Where she was on fire.