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Evanesce

Alone
Stale air against leaves
Shuffling against their grassy tombs
I have arrived

The only place
That feels like home
Between the stones
I collapse

To recede from view
Dissipate into the unconscious
And find anew
I feel my soul escaping

This pain is too much
Broken by rejection
Empty promises
Cruel transgressions

Searching for the light
But there is only darkness
No familiar faces
On the other side

Leave me here
In this place
For it is all I knew
Of comfort and peace

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

my favorite lines are:

To recede from view
Dissipate into the unconscious
And find anew
I feel my soul escaping

it feels so familiar and so right
*hugs, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

I did some serious reflection in the cemetery this weekend. This was my take away...

~RoseBlack~

author comment

are places to be alone, even though there are hundreds, maybe thousands of people there. A place where life goes on, but just not there. Not many people go there to think about life. A sad piece but showing the reflection of your determination. I have confidence in you. ~ Geez.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

It is an odd place to go but I'm comfortable there. There is a peace where I go that allows me an outlet, a safe place so to speak. The residents are non judgemental and excellent listeners besides.

~RoseBlack~

author comment

Hello, Carrie,
An eloquent and fitting title. I, too, find comfort while walking in cemeteries. There is a genuine soulfulness there. You have captured that.
L

It truly is my safe place. I have a particular section I visit and stay in when I need to take space and it has never disappointed

~RoseBlack~

author comment

In the forest that I haunt there is a barely recognizable foot trail off one of the less traveled marked trails that leads to a historical cemetery. The stones are badly worn and they aren’t cut very neatly; more like hewn with hammer and wedges. The light comes through a thick glade of tall white pine and defies so many laws of physics, the air is both still and bristling with energy; old energy. Birds are quieter is this place as if they are observing reverently. It’s a place I’ve visited often and somehow the quiet seems to quiet my mind. All of this comes flooding like a dream when I read your poem as I have felt a deep sense of self and connection within the bounds of many a cemetery. Especially those old wooded ones here in New England.

Superb work,
Tim

There is a mausoleum in this particular cemetery that resembles a small castle. I fell in love with it many years ago while doing a thorough exploration/ghost hunt of the cemetery. It became a safe place for me as well as I discovered over the last couple years that my biological father and members of his family are buried just adjacent to that castle. I tend to spend some time there now as well. It is truly the only place that feels like home right now.

~RoseBlack~

author comment

Sympathies for the loss of your biological father (I’m assuming there is some estrangement). It does sound like he has been laid to rest in a calming place next to beautiful stonework. May this place continue to be safe and provide you with self reflection. I like when your writing is on the personal side. It’s not that it’s better writing compared to say, a fictional scenario, it just hits the right way with me; it’s what I enjoy reading. We write what comes of course.

Even though it usually favors the macabre...I have a difficult time with love and light,. especially these days but am glad you enjoyed

~RoseBlack~

author comment

I suppose that comment mighta missed a bit but I think you understand what I was trying to say. I can deal with your darkness. We all have some, it’s my experience it’s not great to harbor it so by all means hit us with whatever ya got. In the past I’ve found your stuff to be a tad murderous but never second rate.

With admiration,
Tim

For your praise. Some days getting out of my own head is a real task and writing is a big outlet for me. I am glad to be a part of the neo family.

~RoseBlack~

author comment

The darker the darkness the brighter the light, I think this is absolutely brilliant work. I don't find anything morose about walking around cemeteries I think they are a part of our history and who has come before us.

There is a haunting beauty in this poem I love it, I look forward to catching up with some more of your work.

Your language use is good, and the pacing is as it should be.

I came tonight with every intent on being savage with my critique Ha!, but I am finding little to critique in what I've read so far, Well Done!

Sincerely Jayne-Chloe

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

For such high praise. I am sure there are plenty others on my page that could use some savage critique. I find my comfort zone is within the cemetery gates, a particular spot in general. Glad you enjoyed.

~RoseBlack~

author comment

Congratulations on a fine poem.

I am so glad I picked this one to read. This is up there with one of your best.

Love Jayne xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Glad you enjoyed!

~RoseBlack~

author comment

I had to come back. I've been playing with a darker form of poetry. This is the atmosphere I want this dark despair.

It's beautiful in its darkness hon.

Hugs x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Beauty in darkness...it is my comfort zone...my safe place...I am not afraid of what is inside there...it's the light that frightens me

~RoseBlack~

author comment
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