My world this morning is unsettled

Yet again.

Dark gray clouds race through the early morning sky,

And a wind from the sea, 30 miles away,

Blowing, fiercely,

Bending trees.

Bending me.

A voice called to me

speaking silently

Asking me for just a small slice of my soul.

It would have been so easy

to acquiesce, to agree.

To pretend, again.

Oh I am so good at pretending

At making up stories

That what isn’t, is.

This time I said, no…..

You can’t have that slice.

Because it will leave a wound

When you are gone.

My heart lately, is tender.

It is covered with small wounds healing.

Wounds inflicted by me

Pretending, for you.

I can’t inflict another.

Even though I love you with all my heart.