It’s hot, even though the
Glass has misted in the stormy gale, far beneath
the
Sunny vale, in a crevice shrouded in a black-
Pedantic metaphor of life.
I need a friend, I want a friend, but help can . . .
never be found. I stare out of the window
‘Let me escape, please let me escape,’ I let a
silent prayer leak, into the darkness. The window is
smeared with long
Heated breaths of shame, boiling out with
Dancing flames.
Nobody loves you. Help me find the strength,
I don’t even know what to say anymore, and my lips
Begin to shake, with the force of keeping it
At bay.
. . .
Closed inside. Locked in a cage. Waiting for life
to
pass away. A tangled-up mess of words. I want
someone on the phone. I stare at it and touch its face with bleak
Intention, but there is
no one to call. I want to plead. But I am
Locked away, shut away deep, inside and
everything is barren. No reason to greet the
morning, or to
Stay and wait for daytime. It’s clear that no one
really loves you
anymore. I try and give, but no one will
Take the risk of aberration, or stain upon their
Reputation. They stay in the sunlight of a
land that’s
overhead, where love and beauty never
Become dim. A mark upon that untroubled joy, could
only be
A hapless play, and not worth doing. I begin to
cry, and then I find that I
No longer want to try. There is nothing left,
there is just a dark, black
Hole in my chest, where the buried treasure of a life
That once had walked in nature’s light
Have become dusty, waxing
heavy.
Em ~