No sin committed out of need
is evilly conceived no sin this
silence that pervades the mind more
an innocence a quiet time of neither
promises or lies a small withdrawing
watching silence spread across the page
yesterday
I un-invented paragraphs of mediocre
prose and turned
inattentive lines to rhyme today
the storm has passed in its wake
an empty slate darkly
patient waits
I could have struggled through
at least a dozen tragedies I could
have hovered on the verge
of tears unsnapped the catches
on a score of albums
in the closet gathering dust I could
have lost myself in autumn sunk
beneath another season’s agonized
demise or walked an empty beach
there is no end to things
I know to do to make me sad to bring
the mind around to cultivate the need
it is a simple hateful remedy
if I would write
I must first bleed.
~Susan A. Katz