When the sky is dark and the moon is hidden,
When the deepness of the night threatens to consume me,
The feeling of solitude maroons me in a stormy ocean,
The weight of confusion and pain drags me down below the crashing tide.
  
The world seems to shrink as the water floods the mind,
The stinging salt burns the various wounds that cover my body.
My sanctum closes its doors and refuses me sanctuary,
I am forced to lay outside with the bitter **** left unwanted.
  
Hurt and morbid I find myself,
A miserable ghost of the proud, tall man I used to be.
My castle was burned and my throne was broken,
On the same night my queen disappeared in a flash of smoke and shadow.
  
Now, humbled and alone,
I return to the roots of my life to regain strength anew.
The mountains of my childhood rising above the valley,
The scent of belonging subtly clinging to the air,
A waking dream of the reminiscing bliss of my memory,
I have returned to the home my spirit was built in to mend my broken soul.

The silence of the night is enticing,
A cold chill is blowing from the north.
Walking barefoot under the moonlight,
I look up at the sky and think of you.

I light my cigarette and blow out the smoke,
The smell of rain is still fresh in the air.
Walking down the empty street,
I see your reflection in every window.

The night closes in and the darkness deepens,
As the nagging doubts and frailties of the mind begin to appear.
The clouds above twist and grow with anger,
The moon hides behind the impending storm.

The smell of your hair, the delicate smile on your face,
The softness of your lips, the warmth of your embrace.
These are the shadows that haunt me,
These are the demons that persecute me.

I take another swig of whiskey to try and clear my head,
To warm my body and steel my thoughts.
The demons taunt me with memories sharpened like knives,
Reminding me of hurts so deep that left scars which will not fade.

However, as I lie on the moist grass and take another drag,
I see your image shimmer across the field.
I remember falling asleep in your arms,
And waking up to the sound of your voice.

Suddenly, the sea of clouds disperses,
And I see a great moon shine bright and proud;
The shadows and demons flee at the incoming light.
And with the last puff of my cigarette I see,
Your image fade away into the night,
Leaving me behind with a smile and the taste of home.

I am a cigarette to you.

You lit me up,
and I burned slowly,
and you enjoyed my simple highs,
and got dizzy from my insides.

You began to crave me,
addicted to the sensations I gave your mind,
reliant on the comfort I gave you.

But your fingers began to slip,
and I would burn you,
and I had no choice,
I was on fire.

Then I was nothing but a filter,
and you stomped me into the ground.

But in the end, I was killing you all along.

ThrowbackThursday
to music I used to listen to,
songs I used to sing,
the sound of my own pulse as I split open veins

A baby's smell.
A rare seashell.
The things sublime
that make you rich.

A wishing well.
A gambler's tell.
The quilts of time
that have no stitch.

An ocean swell.
A schooner's bell.
The poet's rhyme
that has no niche.

r ~ 30Jan14