Betty Stoneman

Time builds shrines out of remorse
In the eyes of the old and dying
In the hearts of the soulless
Years of words compacted into heavy stones
...

Dead eyes coated with a grey glaze
so innocent, so blind behind the haze
twisted humans disturbingly obscurred
yet somewhat humorously absurd
...

Trapped in mind numbing isolation
Futile, angst filled desperation
Lacking any deep felt emotion
Washing away the tears
...

Some types of pain could never truly be forgiven
Because the hurt can never be forgotten
Lurking underneath the still, calm surface
Cold darkness suffocates
...

Could I be in your world
if my past was not mine?
If each layer of frost uncovered
and embedded in dark years
...

relinquishing of your existence
from the spaces you inhabit
in the well guarded chambers
of admiration and desire
...

I was to retreat
concede defeat
accept silence
insignificance
...

Bruises seeping
justified by her inaction
an action of being bad
punishment fulfilled
...

After all
Experiences analyzed
Searching for significance
Truly a reason
...