This Poem.

This poem. It struck me.

For there is kinship and there is camaraderie

Wherein lies the difference

When the blood of those that are not becomes more warm and familiar than the blood of those that are

You are strangers to me with faces that are common to my mind, but a presence that is foreign

Thoughts of you are happenstance, composed of distant memories

I shake you from my head

I shake you from my bones

But you reappear and reappear

Who are you

There is subtlety in your movements as you slip in with the drafts to grasp my helping hand

Endless abet lest your demise

Endless abet to exhaustion

I was helpless

And bitterness built our relationships and quietness evolved from you to me and me to you and you and you and you

A very sustainable silence

Strangers, you are and you leave me here, abandoned, until you need me again

Desolate, desolate

Until you seek the wounds within my doors that used to let you in

Far from your reaches am I, hidden well beyond the seals

I only hear you, your voices waning

Lost from my head

Lost from bones

Gone

For there is kinship and there is camaraderie

Wherein lies the difference

When the blood of those that are not becomes more warm and familiar than the blood of those that are

~Author Unknown

Creative writing, such as this, pulls at my heartstrings. This blog, my purging place. I miss its cleansing effect.