Sometimes
when midnight's eve creeps up on me,
and you are not here,
and their rhythmic voices sing in my veins,
i try to reach out.
to feel you.
touch you.
but all too often
i am disappointed.
Your shining eyes
don't lock onto mine.
Dullness upon a world of darkness - that is the one you chose.
and still,
you make the moon jealous of your radiance.
and I laugh.
and then
comes 'round the void.
- a. w.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Memory
Poetry"and that is when I realized that breathing had no worth to me." I know you'll never read these, all of you whom these are for, but I'll put it out there anyway. As a last word.
