The words still dance though no one is looking. The trees still sway with wind and crows. The lonely rooms are just as empty, the windows stare out unblinking. There’s kids and cars and the lilt of laughter, the yard strewn with weeds and bones. The days move swiftly, the nights are brutal. The heart beats on, unloved and alone. Looking back is like looking forward, nothing left to fuel this dwindling fire.
I can’t speak, I can’t wander. I can’t hold a candle to the lowest low. There’s nothing but the play by play, the disinterest and the hatred blow by blow. I weep and wail, I bleat and bluster. The stories left me long ago.
Inch by inch the desperate measures mark every skin and stone. The flesh melts like the goodbye moon, the mind sinks deeper into senescence, the beat up brain long since buried in a shallow grave. We all fade, everyone leaves, nothing much remains the same. Only loss will last forever, only pain will stay as the season blend and the darkness gathers. This constant companion as the world grows cold and the night looms large. This life wasted without merit, this body only cast towards dust.
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