Between then and next
Surrounded with thick walls
Built by years of living,
Failures close in like bricks, constricting breathing.
Gravity is the pull of wasted years
And love unfelt, unlost, unsaid,
A downward drag on heavy bones.
The empty vessel waits to be filled
With a bottom stretched to infinity,
Insatiable as Dracula.
The hermit in his hut yearns for light
Until the door opens
Then kicks it shut and curls up.
I prefer unsated appetites,
The familiar hunger and bitterness at loss,
Invisible chains restraining.
Nothin’ left to lose,
Is just another box
That helps find who it hurts the most to lose.
I am most loved when I have nothing left to live for.
I love the most when I give up on love
And care for what I’ve never cared for.
I never looked at birds or flowers
Colours were all gray
And I just rolled down the years like a wheel.
Eyes and ears freed by death
Have never been so much alive
The open maw of soul never so searching.
I am stretched taut like a hide
Between the reckless dare of being
And the quiet downward slope to where I’m heading.
On the edge of the blade
I make no choices.
I sit and wait for the upward cut.
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