SPOTLIGHT: I Will Be Free: a poetic memoir by Kelsie E. Stark

Sleeper’s Wake

When the night cries herself to wake,
the moon will be still in his silence—
afraid to rid the pain of sleeper’s wake,
a soft touch hardened by apathy
shattered in a darkened dawn
his broken bones buried in the sands of time—
lost in the white light and cosmic sea
she is drowning in longing—
wanting to stay in his reach ’till dawn
erupts in her jealous fury,
fire burning in heart and smoke choking
out fear with shades of gray.

Night whispers her good-bye,
taking all to the grave—
as the moon
fading into his own modest love—
still waits for the stars
to finish dancing across an unlit stage.

He cannot see her lonely soul
lingering behind the veil of morning light,
flightless heart beating in endless love
unknown beneath her dew stained skin,
she will wait in nearing slumber
for the fragile touch upon her lips,
a kiss good-night in sleeper’s wake.


She slept in heavy skies
that lit the earth
on fire
with fury
the monotone hues
of a calm sigh,
this feeling was
all she knew
on rainy days.

He stood beneath
her burden
and embraced
the rain
that soaked
his skin,
if only she knew
he could
feel her too.

A passerby
hid trembling
under the shadow
of an umbrella,
impatiently waiting
for this storm
to pass
with each cloud
dragging heavy
in humid humility.

All around
lie still ghosts
in swamps
full of lies
and battle cries,
her wisdom seeped
from her shut eyes
and found a new home
in the muck of a dark sea,
if only she knew
they could feel her too.


It’s a never-ending game
that we both decide to play,
I hold on to you
and you suddenly pull away.

Why do we choose to lose—
loosen our grip and shut our eyes
to the world and all the
wonders of you
and I?

What did we do to open our eyes
and see each other lookin’ too?
was it a feeling of grace to hide
the loneliness in the
gloom of this room?

Standing in the washed-out sunlight
by the window
I see you walkin’ away—
when did you find a way
outta here?

These days I look for you
in the emptiness
of blue skies
in the late day
in my own arms
behind shapeless clouds
and tears that refuse to fall.

I saw our love from a million weary eyes,
in the silence
and all those passerby’s,
there is no heartbeat
beneath this skin
and bone broken
the weighty burdens
of this world
as it turns
on the tip of your finger.

What would you do
if you could have it all, but me?


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