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Elaine Rohm May 2013
If I was the lucky one
if a prize was to be won
I have gambled; I have lost
I've held on far too long.

The will to live fades and I've prayed.
I carried nothing but bare hide and bones
to your shelter of cracks in truth and holes in your faith
are home.
I lose myself and become blind
there is no heart or home of mine.

To forget is to force another
wanted memory from my mind.
To remain is torture, hypocrisy,
and secrets to hide.
To concern the self with fruitless pride,
in-valiant efforts
and a waste of valued time.

Time to divulge in the depths of nothing
To accept my fate
and time to wait.
Patience is time
and time to waste, on well placed venom
while love's demise is taken in haste.

The heart begins to consume the mind.
with thoughtless sadness and
denial of passed time.
All end in a bloodless destruction
by a vile end of a weakened spine.

Bodies of virility and sensation,
eager and satiable by little; given much
a cloak of blindness on tenderness and touch,
hale weakness, to be conquered by
corresponding lust.
Elaine Rohm Dec 2011
The heat of your anger singes my soul.
These ashes are worth keeping, as they burned for you.
Take your tribute with satisfaction. In such light I am blinded of my  own existence.
Like diamonds from coal, I have awaited your  revival; beautiful, rejuvenated.
Forever doesn't seem as long as you will have me wait.
A response is like gold to me these days.... My poverty astounds me.
Elaine Rohm Dec 2011
Ten thousand miles you have ambled,
calloused soul to say the least,
and words like sand beneath your feet,
part only to give you passage,
and they will scorch you like the sun,
in silence, carry on
lest your fire come to ashes.

— The End —