Second Day Pain

Her heart sank like the Sun behind the horizon.

The second day pain had set in.

The skyline hid the night like her smile distracted the blind.

The senses longed for more, but the world kept her stranded in doubt.

Unable to walk towards, or walk away

She hung, like a delicate flower desperate for the dew.

The Potential of life whispered in her ear;

Come away. Or stay.

The choice is yours, but the finale is near.

Poetry: Kara Wilkinson

Images: © Phish Photography Kara Wilkinson

Breaking Apart

And as I dropped her by the side of her house in drizzling rain, I understood the true fragility of life.

As if the only catalyst for living, was that to be held together with a bond so tight, the soul could never breathe.

The self, so safely nestled behind a wall of personality, necessary to allow the harsh climate of experience transcend just enough to develop the soul, and keep the body safe from harm.

It was all crashing down around her. 

The mind, the heart, the body, the soul too.

For the time had come to be set free.

Within and without, it was all about to come loose. 

The grip of fear, the grip for life, the grip for love, for pain.

The beginning of life was near, and so was the end.

Poetry: Kara Wilkinson

Images: © Phish Photography Kara Wilkinson