As I bleed words, trying to recapture time,
I feel this infinite wound searing my soul.
A meaningless silence penetrates my being
but I still hear you with my eyes.

I hold the great metaphor of the universe
in my arms while I feel my hands crying
for redemption.
I write to forget. I write to ignore
that something is missing.
I write to return to time before time
and surrender to love: this love buried
in my pure poetic depths where the lost image
of my soul sleeps in my quiet corners and
the abyss of time keeps love embracing pain.

The deep night swallowed my despair and tears
as my dreams slipped from my open chest.
Tomorrow is a masquerade.
Tomorrow is an obscure place.
I still have that timeless word in my mouth though.
What soothes my memory is what I said so many times
to you.
What my soul yearns, my words cannot name any more
without bleeding.

Karla Bardanza


  1. Yes my friend, we all write to process our thoughts, our hearts strings compel us to do so. And this poem is full of your heart, the quiet in the telling and the knowing. EXALT. tc

  2. Karla I remember reading this one in the club and I feel the same way I do know. Your poetry is so moving and so deep. I loved every words :] -Nik