There is a volcano in me,
rumbling, pitching ash and
ready to explode.
My feelings run from it.
Love hides under a rock,
and I cannot find it.
Where can I go?
No escape, but I keep trying.
Maybe I am the volcano.
A heated mountain of
confusion, boiling over
and running down my sides
with lava, until
I am unrecognizable.
Where is that sweet
loving woman I want to be?
Trapped, inside the mountain
or me.
~May 16, 2010
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