Committed

Horcrux Lost

 

Horcrux (n)

Pronunciation: hor-kruhks

Definition:  a part of a soul that has been split from the primary soul allowing several opportunities for the person to live if a horcrux is removed or destroyed.

 

I believe in the power of

connection,

energy,

Karma

and, as such,

a possession,

particularly one of significance,

created specifically,

thoughtfully, and

lovingly

can absorb a part of one’s soul. 

We see this all the time.

For good or bad,

a house absorbs the energy of the family who lives there.

The energy can be felt if one is attuned.

A sweater, pillow, or blanket

becomes more than a mere inanimate object

and can provide comfort above and beyond that of mere fabric.

For better or worse,

the symbolism of a ring, properly honored,

takes on a piece of the wearer’s soul.

 

All of this is well and good,

to the extent the energy around them stays well and good,

but houses burn down, destroying the once beloved homes,

over time sweaters, pillows, and blankets wear out and lose their luster

becoming ragged until they dwindle to nothing,

rings, once given, are repossessed

and a piece of the one who held the home, the blanket, or the ring in her heart

is forever lost.
 

It makes one question the wisdom

in allowing oneself to become too attached.
 

~ Mk Michaels

Broken Glass

Once given,
a tender gesture,
humble, heartfelt words;
brilliant beauty
of dazzling hearts, Cupid's arrows
and
promises of love forever,
stability, security, safety.
Among of the happiest days of my life.

A symbol created,
to represent the best of intentions,
I didn't know all that would follow,
what would be expected of and 
then stripped away from me.

Empty promises 
born of your desperation
with neither a plan
nor the ability to be kept.
Your panicked shrieks
rooted in a complete lack of faith,
in spite of half-full glasses on every surface,
terrible-two's tantrums
at middle age.
My humiliation,
powerlessness,
bone-crunching exhaustion 
in trying to head off the next
outburst
and the next
and the next.

Circles deeply underscoring 
bloodshot blue eyes,
I admitted defeat.
Failure.
My inability to fill 
the bottomless pit 
of your need.

Cupid's once delicate platinum arrows
and elegantly engraved laurel
now turned to steel,
with sharp points
tinged with the metallic smell
of your faithlessness and
my heart's blood 
dripping
from the jagged edges 
ultimately proven
to be merely glass. 


~ Mk Michaels