i wake, in morning, with a vision of you.
it's a harsh, cold stark image
full of blisters and heartache,
of trauma and cancers growing cold.
i feel the abandoment, the loss.
i feel myself, the only thing i know

i wake out of sleep
in the afternoon air
thinking i'm hearing your voice
but its just the wind
mocking me with a bitterness
i have never experienced.
your voice would have welcomed me back
to the living.
yet this is a curse of the damned.

i fall out of sleep once more
in the cold rain of night.
i feel the leaving warmth of the sheets beside me
the body is gone, you have left me.
and i cry out
with the rainbows of raindrops on the window
the two streams merging, mixing, bleeding me dry.
and with sleep once again,
i am freed for another day.

copyright © 1994 Matte Elsbernd
Alphabet Stew
Word Rants

Back Forward
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18