For Nya


She writes me like a blade
Peeling back my heart
One break at a time
Dipped in madder dye
Nib scratching guilt and absolution
Alizarin crimson my soul.

She writes me like a flame
Upon the page she burns my phoenix
Leaping for the sky
With furled and useless wing
Wind igniting to give me voice
D-flat minor my life.

She writes me like a sky-bound-bolt
Truth seared to iron will
Flash-blind, directionless
Exulting thunder rolls
Invoking was, and is, and ever shall be
Tangled web my path.

She writes me like a thorn prick
Letting blood from faded me
Frayed threads a tapestry
Pain displayed on view
Warping fate with fate
Twisted words my end.

She writes me
And I would have no less.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to For Nya

  1. Nya Rawlyns says:

    Nya is touched, deeply so.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s