Years go by, yet the pain remains,
Carved in my bones with a pocket knife.
If I could break them and re-set again,
I wonder if that would reshape my life.
And after all the years… time stands still.
The reflection in the mirror stares back,
Who is this stranger with a mirthless smile?
I frantically search for a trace of familiarity,
But it’s lost to me, covered with blood and bile.
And yet again… time stands still.
I try to tame the hunger with things I hate,
Hoping I’ll get my demons back on a leash.
This life is nothing more than one big cliché,
Poor imitation of already used pastiche.
Over and over again… time stands still.
Followed by a shadow of imminent demise,
My screams echo in a silent solitude.
Prisoner of past, present and future,
I find myself a singularity in the multitude.
Like a broken watch… time stands still.
Who is this child without a father?
And who is this motherless daughter…
Capable of remembering every silver lining,
Even when she is drowning in a knee-high water.
Rushing, running…while time stands still.
I wonder about her from time to time.
Will she be able to run up the hill?
Can she find once more the reason to live?
Breathing even if the…
…time sands still.
Claudia Schönfeld and Brian Miller of dVerse each selected a poem and asked us to grab one line, either of Claudia’s or Brian’s poem and write our own poem, based on the line we chose.
I picked the line from Claudia’s poem “sketching on Portobello Road//the clock//is body-less”…and yes, you guessed it – time stands still.