The Essence Of You


Excited, I was open to you

I was close to letting go

Stepping back, taking time to feel

I was close to letting go

You were beautiful

Honest, forward, and in control

Qualities of myself shoved away

I was connecting with you

You were bringing out a new me

I was close to letting go

Attachment, I still seemed to form

And too fast than I wished to learn

Darkness was seeping out of me

Not sure what went wrong

So I left, hanging in the balance

The story of what we could be

Though your essence is still with me

Enchanting, the thought of you

Continues to be

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To Paddle One's Canoe Over Still Waters (a poem about fictional love stories)

To Paddle One's Canoe Over Still Waters



Seeming storylines are child's play

Appearing to you like 'tis

something funny


Out of our little trembling political


If only stars are the silent majority


They must twinkle—endlessly, without a noise


No matter how far we are,


The light year spanned space-time

to have brought

me to you


—wondering, now, if vice versa is





In a sense of delight that had made

young lovers swoon

'Tis a mother's loving caress to a



A perfect love of Astrological


And forever they will

choose to share lovingkindness



—to each other & for others.

As well.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a repost from my Twitter platform & which has been edited for a very minor misspelling of "light year".  I have corrected the two-word noun.  For anything else that I might have also edited (but I might have missed), it could only be a tweaking of the form, which might have been changed or affected from my copying & pasting the verses (or from changing fonts & font sizes).  Thank you for checking it out.

when it comes to you.

fearful of making the same mistakes

though I am more than likely to

because there are things I'd like to ask 

and as easy as those questions come

it is hard when they come to you


you weren't just a holiday or vacation

though you share the sentiment of one

because you are every day and every night

and you are the ache in between my giggles

my disorientation when the night greets the sun


there were a handful of faces to pick apart

though only yours really came into view

because you had the nerve to confront my absurdities 

and much of that I needed to hear

most of what you had to say about me was true


to make your eyes illuminate is a wish

though I am unsure of what my efforts would transpire

because the closer I hope to get

and the further things trail away

I am surely only causing your will to tire


fearful of making the same mistakes

though I am more than likely to

because there are things I'd like to ask 

and as easy as those questions come

it is hard when they come to you

Author's Notes/Comments: 

posted from old account

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If I Was Like a Little Sister to You, Why Didn't You Protect Me?

If I clung too tightly
to a hand that wasn't necessarily mine to hold
know that I took the accidental brushing of knuckles on that summer walk deeper than the world is old
and when you told me that you didn't feel quite right and I said I felt that way too
as sorry as I was to hear that you're scribbled I felt less inside myself to share the vision of eskewed

Then I told you about the things I did to myself
the way I coped with my head things and where I put myself in attempt to feel anything other than "sad"
You took it so lightly 
I explained how I never learned to touch myself gently
how I always picked at the scabs
You smiled and kissed my forehead and reassured me that I was just a child and things weren't always going to be so bad

If I breathed too heavily
against your neck that wasn't necessarily mine to exhale against
know that I mistook my festering attachment and comfort in you as a motive to scratch my nails down your back
and when you let it go just far enough for me to believe that I was anything other than your system to repair
I was horrified to have been so invested in you that I fell more inside myself and rested heavily on the concept of killing myself and becoming something new

Then I told you about the plans I had for myself
the way I reacted to your swatting at my hand and the impersonal affection you convinced me that was "only mine to have"
You took it so lightly
I explained how I never learned to touch myself gently
how I had begun to run out of scabs
You made no expression and half-heartedly reassured me that I was just a child and things weren't always going to be so bad

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An Expression Of Love

I am gravely sorry
That you hold pain within you.


We share love,

Whether you choose to accept it
In your reality or not.


I am empathetic towards your pain.


I am not a psychiatrist.
I am not a psychologist.
I do not know how to control your delusions,
Only you know how to do that.


I do know this.

When you can clearly see,
That keeping your mouth shut,
Instead of opening it,
Is hurting far more people
Than it is helping...'s time to open your damn mouth.



05/19/2013 10:04 AM ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

We all choose our delusions in life.

IF I Depend Upon You

If you attach yourself to me
I no longer exist
If I depend upon you
You dissolve
If I expect you to provide for me
I diminish your capacity for liberty
If you hold an idea of what I should be
I am drowned in a sea of make-believe
If you desire anything from me
I cease to be
If I call upon you to relieve my anxiety
I fail not only you but me
If I cannot stand apart from you
I can in no way stand beside you
If we acknowledge sacred unity
Without sin of embroiled restriction
We are free to embrace love
Unencumbered and unrefined
Sensually uninhibited as it is meant to be

Paula Andrea Pyle, MA 2011(c)

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Ineffable Beauty and Unspeakable Grace come from the same source: the glorious power of inexpressible love. We, as humans, are allowed to view glimpses of it, brush by hints of it, hear melodic molecules dancing in the wind, but never are we submerged in its effervescent sacred omnipotence. We somehow delude ourselves to the point of believing we enmesh ourselves in it. Nothing could be further from the raw truth. We only scrape the surface,breathe a mere wisp, scantily touch the hem of the garment by imagining a human depiction of its true magnificence. The moment we reach out to grasp hold of it, it dissipates.