Clarity

The clarity 

was so to the point

That is was shattering.

It cut through 

Some old cobwebs

Of dead beliefs

scrap books

And pages yellowed with 

Non potent pollen

It was at war

With voices.

Some of them

mine.

It was so sure 

Of itself

That the pattern of my breath

on the frosted window

Remained ..

Gentle

Unchanged

The scribbled names..

though...

Have Started fading

It was bright 

blinding..

To the point of darkness

I could not see

What I was used to seeing

It hurt

My eyes Too

After a period of...

Suspended 

Forcibly unfinished thoughts

Tears that had been forced into habit

It called out the bluff

Of ghost dreams

Full of form

No substance

I opened my 

Eyes..

And saw..

What was there

For a long time

Tears were set free

They rushed joyfully

To the heart.

The Shattering 

Allowed more integrity

The illusion of choice

Disappears.