And I Have Trampled Them Before

February 27, 2010
By h_estelle SILVER, San Francisco, California
h_estelle SILVER, San Francisco, California
8 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”


- Kahlil Gibran


I trample the flowering buds of thought
with worn, cracked feet
hovering just above the dirt from which they came
I suppress the urge to think
Scrawling your name across the pavement
Slowly sinking behind the snow.
My hands quiver
I say the cold is culprit but even my unborn subconscious
Rising like a babe from bloody remains
knows better.
I cannot allow the buds to burst open
And spill into this world a new breath
Of thought and creation that threatens
To turn my own self and my brother
Against me


The author's comments:
This piece is about suppressing your own desire to create, imagine and have free thought due to fear of having the world turn against you. I would hope a reader sees the fear of the subconscious, of other people and all that the narrator cannot control. This fear leads her to trample her own thoughts and suppress herself in order to preserve herself and not become vulnerable to others and, even more importantly, to herself.

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