In A Word

In a word…


this war I didn’t choose…

In a word,


this battlement as muse.

Why is there little else, but the struggle?

A lonely solitude, this.



In reaching out,

I thought to share,

my brokenness,

flaws in need of mending,

 letting tears spill through..

Though momentary,

there was a rawness

in my need…


a resemblance of reassurance,

was not to be.

In the form of a question,

I regarded,

you, inattentive,


Silence screaming in the stillness of,

 a love unfelt, beyond

in a word..

the void,


with empty,

CC Elyse Bontrager


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