A Lover of the Night

I couldn’t write
On betrayal,
Or the fact
That I keep clinging
To hope
That keeps bringing
Self esteem to nought.
I have no hope,
In this bed I sleep in,
Nor in these arms
That are weak
With four decades
Of writing,
Nor in this mind
That is frayed with thought
And anxiety,
Nor in this heart
That has been broken
Like countless others.
I have nothing
To offer tomorrow.
Nothing I can see
That allows me
A breath and a smile.
Every one is tainted
With sorrow or guile.
I have no faith
And I know my fate;
So, in both matters,
Hope stands no chance.
Tell me why,
I must bear another day
To the same fight,
When I have always been
A lover of the night?

Advertisements

A body of mist

I ache to write the words
That tell of my heart
Being crushed like a grape
Under your thumb.
(It won't even make good wine.)
Just
some sad story
I'll come to forget in time.

Why and the wheretofores
Shall be forgotten;
But never how you made me feel.
There won't be a need later,
You see,
To save your reputation
And put up a show of platitudes
That betray truth to conceal.

So I ache to write
How I feel –
I am pulled into two…
Love makes me want to dissolve
Into your arms:
My body a mist,
Under a warm blanket.
Pain reminds me of past mistakes
And regrets
And makes me shrink away –
So far –
To the edge of the bed
That I am about to fall
Into a chasm of nothingness.

It's sad to know
All love is the same.
All the lovers are, too.
Because perhaps what you desire
Isn't what they can give you.
Truth remains the same.
So you pull back –
And die a little –
And cover this desire,
Under a blanket of mist
That is now hopeless
And wet.

Breathless

I can't breathe.
I try hard,
But I fail.
I follow
All the rules;
I still lose.
I am free;
But in life.
In all love,
I am caught.
Wrestling hard,
Against pain
And sorrow.
People see
Just the smile
And the love;
But the tears
The tears, tears,
Are all lost,
In silence.
No one sees
(Or chooses
To see) them.
I shudder
To wonder:
If all life
Is this way…
Or maybe,
Some morning
Will bring peace
With the love,
And all life
Will quiet.
But I think
That then is
Death.