I stood apart from my shell-

Watching.

I was the victim of a battle-

Unarmoured.

The Spirit inside, wounded and bleeding.

The body to hide, bound and feeling.

The taunting barbs flew (yours).

The heart cried out anew (mine).

A mind cobwebbed by bitterness and pain (yours).

A mind cowering from anger again (mine).

Do I sin by my giving?

Do I sin by my living?

Am I not as worthy as those who cheat you?

Do I ask for too much by not cheating too?

When you have taken all I can give,

What is there left for me?

My emptiness is relative

To the love I give you.

Unheard by you, is my plea.

Shattered images abound in my mind.

Would that I’m not left behind.

My soul is starved for your affection.

How can I understand your defection.

You heed not my cries,

Throughout the night.

And so my being takes flight.

-Heather Leina’ala Martin-

16 August 1999

revised 17 October 2002