The Haunted Forest
The Improbable Remaining
I asked you a simple question
of heart-breaking import
I braced myself for your answer
And prepared a flip retort
But you remained completely silent
Then disappeared beneath the bed
And I asked you to come back out
But you remained instead
Now every night as I fall asleep
I think of you below
And I feel a sense of sweet relief
That you remained and would not go
Tell Me
Tell me.
Where do I end and you begin?
I’ve already forgotten,
And I’m curious to see if there’s a scar.
Tell me.
How much time do we have?
Because I’ve studied the map,
And the x-marked spot is leagues away.
Tell me.
If your answer is forever,
How do we protect this fragile union?
Forever is a long time to sail stormy waters.
Unsafe
Loving you is fundamentally unsafe,
like napping on railway bridges
and juggling with hand grenades.
Loving you is cold and gritty,
like picnicking on windy winter beaches
and heads of unwashed lettuce.
Loving you is lonely,
like manning space stations
and toll booths on dead end roads.
Posted in Writing
Tagged bridges, cold, grenades, love, space stations, toll booths, you
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Lost
I followed you into dark places.
Navigated shadowy lands
and murky waters.
I inhabited airless expanses.
Endured vast wastelands
and inhospitable wilderness
I followed you down serpentine paths.
Stumbled over rough terrain
and precarious precipices.
I lost sight of you in the inky blackness.
Called out your name
and my despairing desire
Wordlessness
Tongue-tied and tentative
I remain silent
Confounded
While a spectre of mute disapproval
Haunts this inhospitable hush
Impervious to my inaudible keening
You are deaf
Impassive
Fantastic beasts
Despite my lifelong efforts, to date, I have been unable to confirm the existence of the following things:
Certain discontent
Tentatively balanced on the precipice, I pause.
Certain discontent.
Before, plunging into the darkness and doubt.
Certain catastrophe.
I want to march decisively into the thin air.
Certain agony.
So, I pause, wavering and unsteady on the precipice.
I tried
I tried.
I listened.
I waited.
While disappointment ripened
Sugar sweet
Heavy and swollen on the vine.
I waited.
I worried.
I tried.
While regret festered
Swelling and aching
Feverish and infected beneath my skin.
I waited.
I wanted.
I tried.