Lifting my face towards the altar, there was just a TRACE from when I CRIED, yet again, despite the years. My beliefs had been tested when she died, and I struggle – still! I usually avoid this place, as it brings it back, fresh as the day it happened. I relive. I weep. And again, I am left, bereft, without a clear CREDO, unwilling to forgive or believe in a god that would take my baby from me.

Georg’ann

Engaged in conversation,
we SPEAK of nothing
as an interior voice silently screams
it’s the THEME of my nightmares, to be unheard
vestiges of the FIEND remain
in unexpected moments
My life CREDO tested once again
the scream becomes a lullaby

Heather