Illianna Wolfsong Posted November 8, 2003 Report Posted November 8, 2003 (edited) To see someone, you must look into their soul. Great. Advice is a hollow drug, Cheap and worth only as much as you pay for it. He has no soul. I've looked. To feel for someone you must know their heart. I'm sure Confucius said something similar. Sorry, let me be the cynic. I can't know something that isn't there. She tells me that he loves me. I've heard it, but it meant nothing. He says he loves me... Between the knife-slice comments he makes. So if I am to listen to everything I've mentioned Does that mean I also have to take in Other comments? I am a disappointment. I am worthless. I am his biggest mistake. I look inside myself and see my own dichotomy. I am warm. I love. I care. I am cold. I despise. I resent. Am I merely human? Am I confused? Tell me something scholars, philosophers, optimists... What is it within a man's "heart" (or rather what resides where his heart should be) That makes him incapable of loving his own daughter? Edited November 8, 2003 by Illianna Wolfsong
Beautiful Nightmare Posted November 9, 2003 Report Posted November 9, 2003 I love all your poems your such a great writter!
Illianna Wolfsong Posted November 9, 2003 Author Report Posted November 9, 2003 Awwww! Thank you Arwen! That means a lot to me.
Beautiful Nightmare Posted November 9, 2003 Report Posted November 9, 2003 No problem i really love all your poems i think your such a cool writter and i really hope i can write like you someday!
Illianna Wolfsong Posted November 9, 2003 Author Report Posted November 9, 2003 Sweet Arwen, You are so young and have felt so much pain and been told that something that isn't love is love... that's awfully hard to shuffle off. When I was in high school, I wrote almost non-stop... I filled books with pain to get it on the outside rather than holding it on the inside. It does help, it is good therapy, I still do the same thing. (Somehow it's easiest to write when I hurt.) I can't compare how I wrote then with how you write now other than to say that we covered (and still do) much of the same territory. I am flattered beyond words with your comment and your compliements. However, I wish something far greater for you than to grow into an ability to write like I do some day... I hope you write like you. You already have a poinient voice and you use your writing to voice your protest for all the cruelties in life... every poem I have seen of yours (save perhaps for the one about your niece) are written with tears in them. For self therapy, this is a very good thing to do... put them on paper, not on your cheeks. Look at the world with a goal... to see beauty outside the realm where you are injured. Look at yourself with compassion. You have such warmth and such depth, I do hope that you can see your own worth even though so many people try to tell you that it isn't there. I wrote this "to" my father to make the statement that I am not what he sees... that he is the one who is flawed. I do take responsibility for my mistakes, but I am trying to outgrow torturing myself for them simply because other people tried to teach me that I should be tortured. You, sweet Arwen, are not what they see. Know this... and write like you. =) *hugs* -Illi
Ayshela Posted November 11, 2003 Report Posted November 11, 2003 *nod* i've often wondered similar things myself, mothers and fathers both.. the failure to or incapacity to love those who should be a cherished part of life.. *sigh* leave it to you to take my musings, my ponderings, and put them in words far more elegantly and eloquently than i ever could. well done.
Illianna Wolfsong Posted November 12, 2003 Author Report Posted November 12, 2003 Thank you again, Ayshela. =) It is sad that it's a topic so many can relate to though. -Illi
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