She was here.
Physically.
But not really.
Mentally.
She’s in limbo.
Like between sleeping and awake.
Like between breathing and not.
An elaborate veneer of external liveliness.
“I’m Fine.”
A Lucid Dream
I can feel her beside me when I close my eyes. If I focus hard enough, I can almost smell her shampoo each time our rotary fan turns its gaze her way.
I try my best not to disturb my lucid dream of her.
She doesn’t need to leave on that commute again…the one from two months ago when her car flipped and she—the real she—was taken from me.
If I stay silent, she’ll always be asleep beside me.
The Joy Ticker
Question, why does joy
Feel temporary?
As if an intermission
Between tribulations?
A ragged, painful breath
Post marathon?
As if being broken
Is natural?
Dont Let Me Remember This
I play a sick game with my Unconscious
I hand it my woes—
The ones that prevent me from functioning—
And plead, “Don’t let me remember this.”
But the bastard always reminds me
When it senses it did its job too well.
At Dark’s Maw
I use to dwell in Light
Where the angels sing.
Then you happened.
Now I stare at
Dark’s maw, predicting
What evil emerges next.
Photo by Tim Foster on Unsplash
Eros’ Game
“Sir, please,” the Prey begged
At the Hunter’s feet.
“I’m still in pain from our last encounter.”
And yet Eros
Nocked another arrow.
Eros is the Greek god of Love. He’s also known as Cupid in Roman mythology.
Simply Present
My days are filled with
Grief from the past
Fear of the future.
What I would give
For a day of emptiness.
To simply be present.
Credits
Picture: Person Wearing Blue Jeans by Sincerely Media via Unsplash.
Unraveling Myself
I tugged a buckled thread
In my flawless tapestry
The affront frayed me
My days were dark
Pain reminded me
That I was alive
I eventually realized
I unraveled myself
But, by that time
I was a heap of thread
Crumbled on the floor
Picture: Frayed Fabric by CJ via Pixabay
Credits
My Protector
This world we live in
Is full of hate, pain, and loss
But here, in your arms,
Surrounded by your warmth, I
Feel only your love. Only you.
Picture: Adult Couple via Pixabay
Credits
Pain on Her Canvas
Her inspiration
Was etched deep into her skin
As crisscrossing scars
Blistering when touched, but a
Marvel when placed on canvas
Picture: Drops by Jbauer-fotographie via Pixabay
Credits
Desiree S. Brown 