Limbic Poetry

Days long, mostly numb, I'm not sure I'm ready yet
To forget, sadistic as it is to dig up bones
I like to keep the dead awake when I'm alone.

When the moon is flushed of barren moor and tides
And the endless flocks of crows crowd the skies black,
Wire frames dancing, shadow puppets in candle dim, tired eyes.

The whispers of sleep, ghosts of what used to be
Haunt my dreams, I see them in my peripheral vision
Listening to the pavement, stalking me through the eternal streets.

The birds flock to me, bobbing their heads like automatons
Drawn to the scent of sulphur from my spent matches
My heraldry scavenging in the fallout of long since gone.

Gone now lover, gone now ghosts of wont let go
If the heart aches, it aches, buried under witch elm
Hiding in the shades from the blinding lights of sorrow.

Day is done, and another hungry mouth, another empty bed
Cigarette smoke playing in the dust floating in the air
Ten words that changed the world ringing in my head.