Sometimes making love to life and living the heartist’s way is about creating art in the midst of pain, discord and grief. I am going through a tough circumstance with someone in my life right now where my voice–my truth–feels cut off and denied. It’s no wonder I woke up this morning with a bad sore throat and this poem

Ashes to Ashes
Gripped Tight

Can’t Speak

No Sound

Voice Weak  

 

Swallowed Down

Truth and All

Biting Lips

Feeling Small  

 

You Can’t take

My Honesty

Can’t Hear

Can’t See  

 

I Choke

Rage and Pain

Hold It In

Must Refrain  

 

Let You Live I

n Lies and Fear

Keep my Hits

No Where Near  

 

Clamped Tight

Shut Down

Cut Off

No Sound  

 

Keep the Lid

Sealed Tight

Don’t Ruffle Feathers

Don’t Start a Fight  

 

Hanged Man

I’m Dead

Truth Gone

Lies Fed  

 

Happy Now?

Placate

Death March

Sealed Fate  

 

Sore Throat

Can’t Feel

Body Sick

Can’t Heal  

 

Walking Dead

Make No Sound

Ashes Ashes

We All Fall Down.

~Debbie Lichter

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