I am the void left by hope.
I am the frantic scrabble,
the gasp for a mirage.
I am the empty box,
the joke with no punchline.
I am the end of the road.
I am the face you thought you knew,
the parcel for someone else.
the missing last page.
I am the second,
after the second,
that you knew it was over.
I am the coup leader
shot at dawn
I am redundancy
bankruptcy, lonely
I am the king
with blood on my arms
From the nails
I am the logo on the trainers
on the heels
of the one in front
I am the vibrating molecules
Of the sound
Of the door closing
I am the dawning realisation
That you are not
as good as you thought you were.
I am disappointment.
I am the sun reflected
The gleam of polished brass
I am the lace of frost on leaves
I am the newborn laugh
The vibrant flowerbed
I am the happy child
chasing the rainbow
of a bubble on the breeze
I am more than the sum
of the gaps between dreams
I am the strength
In the arms
That hold you
I am the other side
where mysteries are plain
I am the miracle
the rank outsider,
the last to be picked,
who scored the winner,
I am fresh hope.
I am unwavering joy.
I am the rock.
I am.
And I choose you.