Poem written by Eric Meyersfield

A face
From a place
I’ve never seen twice,
Twisting the chrome-plated armor,
From reality,
Bare bones,
All that you see,
Is in the open,
Nothing hidden in the depths or folds
of dark anxiety
And whispers of possibilities
Never realized or broken intention
Tangled mangled mess of insane wishes
Not you.
You just you just all of you.
Your hand reaches out into the
Mad haze of yesterwebs
As my brain crackles
Adusting to the new spin
Of the Earth’s axis
And in your hand is food
For my heart like energy
That keeps my feet walking
My hands talking
My soul, my soul, me
Never silent, quieted
Momentarily
By your intense kindness
Sleeping softly
In you care,
Between bouts of fits of
Thundertears and Underfears
The night is easier to stand up to
with your picture suspended
In front of my bloodshot ruined eyes.
And for a moment
You remind me
Of who I am
And all is calm
In my head.

by Eric Meyersfield
Feb 2004

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