The storm is long gone
leaving behind in rubbles
my life.
I have picked up pieces
and started over,
rebuilding the haven for my heart.
My walls are stronger.
Doors shut tighter.
Built no windows
to keep love out.
Let the people whisper,
let the friends knock,
no one crosses the threshold.
I leave my hearth stone-cold.
I’m a fortress–I’m cold.
I’m safe from hope.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 
great writing; it follows on wonderfully well fron the previous poem. so savage and hectic
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I wrote them together after a nightmare
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wow! that’s a pretty heavy nightmare
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Memories are the worst nightmares, John! Though I’m forgetful, I guess, my memories of the Storm had been too vivid. I live through every moment again in these nightmares.
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A sad, haunting poem. Losing hope can feel less painful, but it’s devastating.
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No windows, but the doors could be opened, even for a minute.
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Only if you want to take a chance! 🙂 I did take my chances after the storm…
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