I was honored by Adam’s request to guest post with a poem. I don’t write poetry too often, but I like the challenge. Here, I have attempted to write in the Italian terzanelle form (with only slight cheating). I hope you enjoy it. Thank you. – Amy from The Bumble Files
Where there’s light, there’s dark—
in the middle toils a tangled mind,
slipping, hiding, gasping,
Will I ever be enough?
Slipping away inside her head,
in the middle toils a tangled mind.
White, chalky tablets fill her hand,
her bright smile hides her dull eyes.
Slipping away inside of her head,
strength enough for everyone except herself,
Christmas baskets clog the decor.
Her bright smile hides her dull eyes,
pills distill antiseptic smells,
its rotting memories no one claims.
Christmas baskets clog the decor,
but no one says anything.
Where there’s light, there’s dark
lurking, wrestling with grace,
slipping, falling, grasping.