Blocked by the unspoken,
Locked away Confessions.
Broken by the aftershocks
Of oppressed Discretions...

She's hit a wall...
A choice...
Stay Here...
Allow her Minds eye
To meet the Glare
of medusa's stare?
Become the sum
of her mistakes?
Stagnant stone-stuck
in her dis-ease?
That People please breeze of disdain
She's used to drive lives insane?
Survive- forever stationary?

Or

Face her tidy-tucked away lies?
Throw away her vain ways?
Reveal The vile profanity of her vanity?
Shed the sin she's covered in?
Smothered smiles hiding insanity?
Unlock the blocked confessions
She she has concealed
With zeal?

Choices with relentless voices.
Internal wars we wage
As we gauge the pressure
Versus the anticipated pleasure.
Or the inevitable explosion?
Balancing the psi...
Risky business- corrosion gauranteed.

And

The consequestial weight of it all?
Errosion of her essence slow; extinguished.
Pounding the pause button,
She's searching high and low
For a probable cause which matters not.
Contempt prior to investigation...
She stays in a loop.
Toucan Sam says:

Follow your knows...
For the taste that shows...

The scent of ripened fruit-
Seeds long ago thrown
To the winds... now fully grown-
Beckon her home.
Begging her to drop the baggage
Of unmet expectations
And outter perceptions-
That Exist in a realm cloaked as reality.
Moments of clarity clarify.
Yet they are a rarity, gone in a wink.
Brief and if not siezed soon,
They will take her nose...
She will lose the scent.

Her chance to let go; repent.

Ahhh, but time is sent
by hands which lend and will not bend.
She is losing traction,
A lady forever in waiting.
Self Creating her endeavor,
She stays
Lost
at a yet to be seen cost ...

The serpent mane of Medusa
Will tap her bouldered shoulders,
Sneaking up from behind, of course,
As She is busy balancing choices...
Ignoring the internal voices
Speaking in feels, she reels
In a foriegn language...
Confusion trap.

Tap...tap...

Turn and it's a wrap.
Stonewalled.
Apalled, she is frozen in her mind.
Sailed past the red flags oblivious,
Another casualty systematically programmed,
Flim flam shammed and shackled...
Dammed to be weighed down
By her very own inability to let go...
Of her outward show
Determined to hold stability tight,
Choices never met their voices.

And so it was.

Not touched nor tarnished...
The unspoken stays tucked away,
Perfectly pristine- pretty packaged clean...
Her Statue, patina painted
That 'almost' pristine sheen-
Tainted by an element of the unseen.


© fire_tamed_dame