For a shield, not for me, but for those who seek solace within my boundaries,
albeit briefly. Until they come to realise there are more than just their own feet.
To either shuffle or to walk away,
Head held high, or shoulders bent low to infer knowledge of themselves they assumed
when extolling why. The why now becomes away.
For a shield, not for me, as I am immunised from pressure within my sphere,
albeit briefly. Until we cry out together in the throes of orgasm with a pleasure which trust creates.
From an initiate or vaguely naive,
head wilting, in the afterglow of more than just words spoken or sent electronically
when suggesting love. The love now becomes truth.
For a shield, not for me, for with each day I learn to forget the missives,
albeit briefly. Until I pause to analyse what seemed like real feelings expressed in a smile.
Before reality showed or at least implied,
head swimming, caught up in the believed truth within the blatant but hidden lies
around a darkened finger. The finger now points and laughs.
For a shield, not for me, but for a lesson which life belatedly and overduly forces,
albeit briefly. Until it knows that level of pain is unsustainable without irrepairable damage.
Before emotional sinews tighten then snap,
head twsiting, thrashing uncontrollably as the electrical impulses switch back and forth
between positive and negative. The negative now is normality.
For a shield, not for me, but for the possibility of the past being real yet unreal,
albeit briefly. Until we sit down and realise over a hot coffee and the newspaper the world is so cruel.
Before wondering how we can begin to trust again,
head swelling, filled with questions and contradictions which only serve to justify choices others made
in the moment memory has to live within. The within only pretends to learn.
Steve B 02/09