Insomnia, always
The bewitched course of unending nights
Bitter nights swallowed in haste
I only want the comfort
Of the nest of arms to carry me
Through the tides of terror
That rise and ebb in the dark
I only want to be held
So I can endure the dreams of oblivion

My pen is so hungry
Starving, aching
For something, anything
Substance, truth, paper
It wants to nibble existence
My ink longs to gnaw away
At the heart of life
My scribbles thirst
For perfection

If only I could name
My fear, my darkness
That haunting shadow
Measure it, weigh it
With inches, pounds, milligrams
If only I could give it substance
Speak it out, find the words
If I dared break the silence
Woven of silent submission
If I dared shatter the texture
Of this solid web of lies
If I dared bust through this black wall
And come forth to the night
I would still be alone
But would I remain invisible?

I've whispered so many words
Across oceans or cliffs or crowded classrooms
But the questions were never answered
And the echos never returned

I've wandered through so many avenues and dead streets
And tried to see things in the faces or the bricks
But nothing appeared

Yes, I rambled through the city
The old mill, the church, the plaza
I prowled the boulevards and roads
I searched the crowds, the houses, the stores
Thinking that something
Could be hiding there
I thought wrong
I found nothing, I found nobody

I've climbed so many trees and mountains
Only to reach the top and realize
The top was no better than the bottom

I've written so many poems
But they are always inadequate,
Never what I'm looking for
Never quite reaching whatever it is I'm looking for

I am always trying to catch something
Looking for something
Trying to follow some invisible tangent
I can feel it
It has to be there
I know it is
It's out there, out of reach
Unfound,
Waiting, boiling
Right under the surface

I will never give up

I want to be held
The way a dying hand
Holds a crucifix

I want someone to look into my eyes
The way a captain
Looks at a compass