Come to my Fire

[Cita]

Come warm yourself at my red-hot fire, and even, yes, cook the jealous food that needs sustain you, because I have enough heat, enough enthusiasm, enough passion, enough love to spread it around like butter, even when it drips down and stains my feet.
The "I" of me is buried and still, burning with the fever of uncertainty, burning for spring, missing the writing that is my lifework, but the outer me pulls up the roots of a dead winter and tosses them over the fence of a fools day coming, explores what was written during cold months, plows through office chores with a dullness that only a plunge in a too-cool-yet pool of water will wash away.
And I think today of the person who stalked me a few months ago* and compiled what I had written into a document meant to hurt and divide but instead pulled true threads of a togetherness tighter.
And I think today of an e-mail someone bcc'ed me on just so he wouldn't be alone in his quest for love, bcc'ed me on a letter written in the darkness to somone who has already rejected him, firmly and with dignity, and I wonder if his poured out feelings are disrespectful, and yet, they leave little slices on my heart.
And I read an e-mail from someone I hurt who very skillfully shoved my most valued treasure back at me with nonchalance and I think of the ways humans wound each other.
And I say again, come warm yourself, even when I am only coals.





*yes, here on 6S someone stalked me and cut and pasted my words into a document, and e-mailed it. Her name is Janet, and I would like to meet her someday.

[Michael Brown]

I can't believe this Janet, tiny blip though she may be, took the time to read, cut, and paste your words together. Has she written anything of her own worthwhile? No matter how she meant to hurt (since it seems to have made you a little stronger). There seems to be an off-hand compliment in there somewhere, although somewhat askew.  Messy missy, messy missy--I like that one, TLC.

This piece was fine, indeed, fine enough to absolve you of anything you might have written in haste. I hope you never find yourself feeling the need to do something like that again, but if you do, what the hey! The pen is mightier than the sword, and produces a lot less blood.

Nicely written.

[Bill Floyd]

Stellar writing, emotional without devolving to sentimentality, wise without being preachy.

[Diana E. Backhouse]

I you need to write for catharsis, there is always someone here on 6S who will reply with sympathy and understanding. Hope this worked as a spring-board to greater words.

[Sandra Davies]

There is something both awesome and human about this - I can't find the words to express it though ...

[Cita]

WAIT!  Everyone breathe!  I am a writer.... the pathos was magnified.  Janet is only a tiny blip on my screen (though I have to admit to feeling rather violated and stalked). 

 

What I have been through is nothing to what I have put others through.  I just had to use some poetic license today to JUMP START writing again. I have been mailing out books rather than writing, revelling in being a published author rather than authoring something new. And I needed to come here and write.  The first line came to me in my sleep and I couldn't let it just fade away!  Glad it sounded raw....

Besides, the writing was cathartic.  (But damn... nice to know I have you gals on my side!)

[Kristine_ES]

i'm still trying to figure out something useful to say to something so raw, "even when i am only coals"... wow.

[Teresa]

Unbelievable - the ways humans wound each other, and what you've been through.  Words are powerful in both good and bad ways, and once we hit "send", it's too late to take them back.  Maybe Janet wants to come to HoW so we can hog tie this messy missy.

[Angela]

You disclose easily (it seems) and well, without the kinds of self-indulgent words and over-exposure that disclosures seem to encourage.  I think the dead roots tossed over a fools day fence is both a perfect metaphor and a physical healing for emotional pain.  Remarkable.