I stand before you the product of tumultuous indifference
My eyes, half open, windows into a picture most would call ugly
My breath, that of a long-time 3-pack-a-day chain smoker
I wheeze and huff as each arduous breath passes pale, ever-dry lips

This was apparently my time, or so I’m told
My time for what? Your guess is as good as mine
I struggle against the ebb and tide of a life I hardly know
My dreams and thoughts a pitiful excuse not to fold
Each breath, a battle, as I watch my fading time
I am left desolate and diseased, unable to let go

I think back on times of passing whims and fleeting fancy
Faces and forms admired, envied and claimed
I think back on lessons learned from wise and fool alike
Yet nothing steels my will or loosens the grip

My lungs feel clenched in a fist of fire and briers
My eyes, dim and clouded still, watch the world around me turn
I long for hearts and hands my youth once admired
But I’m left with nothing but pain and burns.


Posted on January 23, 2014, in Dark, Loss, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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