I am not content to fall, any deeper, into the hole in my soul, which was once occupied by the relationship with you, my only child. I am not content to dwell, any longer, on that which has befallen us, respectively, my dearest friend. I am not content to remain, paralyzed, in a robotic survival, originating in the grotesque realities of this life and world, yours, mine or ours. I am intent, on creating something, anything, other than: black holes broken hearts and trudge. I may not know, may not see, yet, this new future, but I am fervently and passionately, intent, on creating it. One Foot In Front Of The Next I am not content; therefore: I am intent. ~Marcela: moving toward that which has eluded me most of my life, one well-shod step at a time. February 20, 2021 Photo and writing: All Rights Reserved.
Posted by ~MyLa | Filed under My World(s), Poetry