Night Owl

He comes at night.

Is it just me?
Or have we met before?
When you’re thirsty for my blood
you come knocking on my bedroom door.

Is it just me?
Or have I no choice?
For you’ve taken my voice,
my only weapon to interrupt your noise.

I tried to play on complication but
you read me like a book.
You touched me with your eyes but
your fingers never partook.

You’re a winding road that
I could follow all day, and
I would probably indulge in you
if my soul weren’t in my way,

But I’m flesh and I’m bones,
You are sticks and you’re stones
My heart, my beating proof.
Say you wanna take it,
You say I’m more decisive on my own.

Is it just me?
Or did you once love freely?
Knocking on my bedroom door..

Is it just me?
Or when you come looking,
does my conscience lie faceless on the floor?

Is it just me?
Or have we met before?
I'm always waiting for you now..
To come knocking on my bedroom door.

Reviews

[Everett DeValle]

Wow...Lovely flow...Dark and mysterious in your longing. The anticipation can be grueling and worthwhile. ;)

[Jay Harris]

"For you've taken my voice/ my only weapon to interrupt your noise" and the comments of the lines before me definitely made this poem heavy. Great work!

[Rory CJ Frankson]

"does my conscious lie faceless on the floor?" this would be a great line in a story. It's those sometimes rare lines, that grip the attention, and we wait for the drama, that follows. Building maybe suspense, mysterious outcome.

Think of a play on words, and just what is being staged, there was plenty here and I like the way you staged this piece. With intimations and allegories, that mix in and around your theme. The suggestion of the ploy. Good word choices here, that hold a rhythm to just enough rhyme....

Write On / Right On
Romon in Review

[writtenfor]

"my heart, my beating proof" love it.