Dark arrows to my heart
Cradled crimson lines of love
Caught unaware
Eyes wide open
Unable to remove the stinging barbs
Lies made truth
My coveted future distant
Inexplicably unattainable
Reality, the bitter pill
Always sits on my bedside table
Stop crying, you little shit
Post-traumatic overly dramatic
Peering deeper unnecessarily
Blanket of loneliness
Pulled tight about my chin
Connection impossible
Pull back, release
Straight down the middle
Bullseye of actuality
Shredded wrists dripping bitterness
Roll over, eyes closed tightly
Start again
©️tara caribou – 2018
an exceptional write!
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Thank you, so much.
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you are welcome!
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Powerful sentences woven together
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Is that a good thing?
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Sorry, let me start again.
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Powerful words woven together. Nicely stated. Want to read more of the same!
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Hahaha! Over-the-top! You’re awesome.
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I was eating dinner. I think a chicken bone got in the way of answering correctly. I’ll try better next time. Really…
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“Correctly” – lol
There are no right or wrong responses. I was just looking for clarification, not compliments! But don’t choke! We don’t want that!!
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It’ll just show up in the Lola blog just like it has with giraffes
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Nice!
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Very very sad
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Thanks Phil. Good to see you! 😊
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“Start again.”
That’s about all we can do sometimes.
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I’m trying
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Loved this. 😊
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Thank you. I’m so pleased you do.
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Sigh!!! Start again.
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Yes, exactly.
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Those lonely moments, we’ve all experienced them. Despair around us with no solace. You conveyed that with great precision, Tara!
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Thank you and yes, definitely.
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Now, for a lighter moment. When I first had read the title of your post, I thought it was Stinging Boobs, and I was transfixed on the pain/pleasure aspect of such a thing. 😀
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I’d rather have stinging boobs than stinging barbs any day of the week.
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this is great and sums up what we all feel in a way that makes us relive yet not regret the pain.
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Thank you Mike. I appreciate that. I wish I could not regret some of the pain.
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that makes sense, i have pain a plenty that has burrowed deep and taken residence where hope once flourished.
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I feel that. Inside my own self, I do too.
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This ❤️
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I like the subtle touches of anger at being so wounded and being unable to change it (to take out the goddamn arrows) shines through the cracks in the deluge of other, equally negative emotions. I also liked “bullseye of actuality” in there: like a gunshot to the face. Dark, hurtful, yes, but wonderful? Of course.
Excellent poem.
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Thanks Spiral. You always see right to the heart of things. I like that.
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I would say it’s a gift, but that would be way too self-serving 😉
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Nah… it would be true.
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