Jane Eyre
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Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre

By on Feb 26, 2015 in Poems | 0 comments

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Jane Eyre

 

I blundered onto the moors with my coffee breath and my hands

wrung blue with grief.  The air was four walls, a darkened room

of mist, a grounded cloud that followed me, ghosted me.

I was crazy with his name    his face    the longing for him

the telepathic, tele-pathetic lifeline we shared,

my heart all strung up and spun around

him.

I was dizzy with it, I was spinning.

I wanted to go away from him but I had nowhere to go.

I wanted to go to him but I did not know where to go.

He perfumed and bewitched the gray air

that cloaked me, spooned me.

It was like this for a long time.

After a while there was no time.

I was small.

I wanted to be even smaller.

I do not know how to categorize what came next

or what day it was but there was

one moment that changed it all.

I thought I saw the sizzle of a yellow bird

flicker in the distance. I thought I saw it leap

through a break in the mist, a little yellow flame.

I’ll never know what that yellow flame or bird was.

Was it delirium from hunger and desolation?

Was it a blip caused by a brain tumor?

Was it the grace of God?

I rubbed my eyes. I looked again.

Did it get sponged out?

Didn’t matter.

I followed the organic path that led to it.

My heart had memorized it instantly.

The air was clear, my mind was clear.

I followed the yellow bird and it stayed clear.

I thought I wanted the safety and shelter of him.

What I really wanted was a systems shift.

I wanted to smudge out the lanterns of his

coal eyes burning at me across the moors.

I wanted out

of this Chinese finger trap

I’d been born into.

I wanted another story.

I wanted it to reverberate for eons.

I wanted my suffering not to be wasted.

All future orphans girls

would know my name.

They could warm themselves with it.

Yes, I was small.

Small and dangerous.

I knew then what I was meant to be.

A little yellow flame,

a brightly feathered bird,

a light.

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