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Jennifer Christine Hilliard

of

Denton, TX, US

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jch0003@jove.acs.unt.edu (Jennifer Christine Hilliard )


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Untitled

by

Jennifer Christine Hilliard

The storm of words still pounds
through my soul.
I hear the plate glass shatter,
and marvel at the wonders of
adereneline.
I didn't
feel
a
thing.
Glancing at the beautiful shard of
glass,
it becons me.
All rationality escapes me, and
I grovel to the god of inner peace.
Is this enough?
Will
they
realize?
The tepid blood creeps down
my temple,
but I feel like I'm drowning.
The supple glass screams at me.
My soul screams back.
A swarm of calm people in
shinny uniforms
surround
me.
How did they know?
It was
me.
I called the knights in shinning
armor to
rescue me,
but
they
can't.
I feel like a mad-woman.
Will I ever
return
from this sanction in the
far realms of my mind
that some call
craziness?
I tremble on the outside:
on
the
inside
it measures 7.8 on the illustrious
Richter scale.
It's funny how when you've snapped...
and you realize you'll never be the same;
all you want
is
to
be
held.
No one ever held me,
and I wonder
if I've returned
from my voyage into craziness,
or if I could only
afford
a one-way
ticket.


Tumult

by

Jennifer Christine Hilliard

Trampled flowers...
errected walls.
Retreat into your pseudo-world,
envelop your trepidation
in brick.
Build it lofty,
build it gigantic.
Busy yourself with paltry vigor:
Whatever it takes.
Paint your face...
do you haev enough to conceal
Who you genuinely are?
Disguise. Mask. Supress. Withold.
Veil. Cloak. Conceal. Screen. Camouflage.
Shroud. Pelt. Skin. Leather. Cover.
Suffer.
I found a hole in your wall
of refuge...
Will you let me in?
Your flowers are withering,
let me help you water them.
You, too, thirst for attention and
consideration.
Let go. Let me.
Unfold your tragic inhibitions;
I'll walk through your gardens
and soak up your incandescence.
Let me caress the Tumult inside
you.
Let me in.

For Lee

by

Jennifer Christine Hilliard

No more secrets;
I never wished you
pain.
Inadvertantly,
I forgot
your
anguish...
entwining myself in
denial-
there was room no longer
for
you.
I do not deserve
forgiveness
or
deliverance.
I ask only for
understanding.
Please hold my hand
as we take
a step
retrospectively,
and
exhale.
Pull from the far reaches
of your memory
and hold
me,
as you once did.
I am lost,
please find me.
I need your help
in returning my
life
to
crimson and azure.
I will listen to you
until
my
ears bleed.
Please
speak
to me.


The Awakening

by

Jennifer Christine Hilliard

Sometimes we think we're one way,
and then we meet someone
that gives us hope for ourselves,
and belief
in the future.
suddenly, seconds on tHe clock
turn into moments of precious
time. we see the world through
the back door and find
it's
not
so
scary.
you know you've become a new
person when red becomes
crimson,
and blue becomes
Azure.
you know you've reached a new
plaNe in your life when
things
once
abstract
become clear, and things once clear
seem like a picasso.
the nadir of your soul rises to the
surfacE,
and you search for the words
to thank the person
who forced you to
see yourself
differently.


Sara

by

Jennifer Christine Hilliard

staring at the fire...questioning my sexuality...refusing to let reason rape my senses...wanting to hold her hand...