Celina Adrian
31,622 poems read
"gutted"
it is another year with him
and she is vacant now
with each passing year
she lost a little more of herself to him
he changed her
she changed herself
you can not change
what does not want to be converted
conformity
so there she morphs into his avatar
into something unrecognizable
into someone unrecognizable
someone resembling
a hollow shell of herself
she lost her depth
the sparkle in her eyes is no longer
there was a time I believed in her eyes
and in her ocean of possiblity
I myself dove deep into both
without safety
there was a time when there
was something, someone so
so
so
so present to life
so present to love
so I search for it
and looked deep into her eyes again
as she looks past mine
her soul has left her body
and fused with the illusion of his grandeur
white noise and illuminated tv screens
bulbs flashing, blinding her
and in that entanglement with him
she was left emptied
from all matter of her former substance
both he and fine lines tricked her into
believing there is something more
someone more
but without a soul
the extraction will be deeper
like a knife to slaughter
and if she approaches me
yet again
with heartfelt tears and a hug so emotional
in the first few moments of
coming back into herself
I will offer her a touniquet
to stop the bleeding
but I won't offer her a way
out of the pain
because at least she will be feeling
something, anything
at least her hurt can be a part
of filling her up
with what has now become
empty space
it is another year with him
and she is vacant now
with each passing year
she lost a little more of herself to him
he changed her
she changed herself
you can not change
what does not want to be converted
conformity
so there she morphs into his avatar
into something unrecognizable
into someone unrecognizable
someone resembling
a hollow shell of herself
she lost her depth
the sparkle in her eyes is no longer
there was a time I believed in her eyes
and in her ocean of possiblity
I myself dove deep into both
without safety
there was a time when there
was something, someone so
so
so
so present to life
so present to love
so I search for it
and looked deep into her eyes again
as she looks past mine
her soul has left her body
and fused with the illusion of his grandeur
white noise and illuminated tv screens
bulbs flashing, blinding her
and in that entanglement with him
she was left emptied
from all matter of her former substance
both he and fine lines tricked her into
believing there is something more
someone more
but without a soul
the extraction will be deeper
like a knife to slaughter
and if she approaches me
yet again
with heartfelt tears and a hug so emotional
in the first few moments of
coming back into herself
I will offer her a touniquet
to stop the bleeding
but I won't offer her a way
out of the pain
because at least she will be feeling
something, anything
at least her hurt can be a part
of filling her up
with what has now become
empty space