My hard work is paying off. I feel the throb of optimism. Writing has brought me face to face with my insecurities, lost, a voice lost among the many others also hoping to be read. In my old world, people paid for my advice. This poem is a frivolous look what writing has taught me so far.If you love cheese, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the metaphor.
Cheese
when I woke up
my inner self said
I am a cheese
okay I said, a cheese
maybe it’s all those winter eves
long dark and cold
sharing a red with a friend
eating cheese, maybe
I thought about cheese
creamy camembert, blissful brie
chatty cheddar, sensuous swiss
cheese has holes
I run my finger around
the hole in my Jarlsberg
a smooth hidden cavity
like me, I thought
I am of loose weave
a dreamer, a leaf
thoughts inspire me
taking me here and there
I can be light
exuberant beyond measure
eyes shining, sharing
my new-found world
at times anger comes
flashing and slashing
silencing the voice of reason
anger’s righteous not right
there are holes
dark places, mostly veiled
home to the me
I don’t like
I stand there
looking, wondering what’s in there
and why I’m so scared
to look
is it the darkness?
is it the feelings?
I can’t see
but will my eyes adjust?
what would happen if
I walked through the veil
and stood there, looking?
what would I see about me?
yes, I am a cheese
holes in my psyche
I am work in progress
on the road to self-love
Can you relate? Leave a comment.
I guess that Swiss is better than being blue vein where your holes are not holes anymore but veins that flow through. Veins that have compressed & become part of you – mouldering in seams deep within.
xx
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I love a blue!
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