I am walking, alone through dusky sunset streets.
I remember the warmth of your smile, the joy of your laughter.
I remember your eyes, how they staved off the pain.
I remember your blood on my arms, his footsteps like thunder in my ears.
I stop in front of an empty house, silent, save for the wind whistling through broken windows, and the grass in the flower pots, waving in the wind.
I turn away, the tears in my eyes burn, but they do not fall. Why don't they fall?
I walk on, her memory roaring in my ears, a waterfall of grief, and remembered joy.
Her eyes were so dim. How could they be so dim, when they were once as stars, shining bright, a beacon, to guide me home, away from my tormenting night?
The sun, still shining, hides it's face, beneath sheets of stormy gray.
Why is it still shining?
I walk alone, numb. I thought, that if I stabbed myself though the heart right now, I wouldn't feel it, and I could just....go.
I keep walking, my eyes are dim, the sounds of the sunlit world mean little to me now.
I am trapped in a Twilight of grief. Of guilt. Of the terrible pain of a cold bed, and a silent house, where once there was joy and laughter, and an ear to whisper to, my melancholy, and to be able to watch her burn it away, like a candle to a grey air, and to feel her arms about me, a shield, against myself.
Now she's gone.
I'm....alone.
Goodbye.
The grey is all about me.
It's time to find an end.
It's time.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
I am walking, alone through dusky sunset streets.
I remember the warmth of your smile, the joy of your laughter.
I remember your eyes, how they staved off the pain.
I remember your blood on my arms, his footsteps like thunder in my ears.
I stop in front of an empty house, silent, save for the wind whistling through broken windows, and the grass in the flower pots, waving in the wind.
I turn away, the tears in my eyes burn, but they do not fall. Why don't they fall?
I walk on, her memory roaring in my ears, a waterfall of grief, and remembered joy.
Her eyes were so dim. How could they be so dim, when they were once as stars, shining bright, a beacon, to guide me home, away from my tormenting night?
The sun, still shining, hides it's face, beneath sheets of stormy gray.
Why is it still shining?
I walk alone, numb. I thought, that if I stabbed myself though the heart right now, I wouldn't feel it, and I could just....go.
I keep walking, my eyes are dim, the sounds of the sunlit world mean little to me now.
I am trapped in a Twilight of grief. Of guilt. Of the terrible pain of a cold bed, and a silent house, where once there was joy and laughter, and an ear to whisper to, my melancholy, and to be able to watch her burn it away, like a candle to a grey air, and to feel her arms about me, a shield, against myself.
Now she's gone.
I'm....alone.
Goodbye.
The grey is all about me.
It's time to find an end.
It's time.
I am telling you the truth. I can only write about melancholy.
I pray this poem, is not a reflection of myself.
