Love in Perpetual Night

Oh, love, I asked for tenderness. 

But your hands, absent with purpose, stayed still.

Love, I hungered for connection,
Yet your deflection was a deafening rejection that made
My vulnerable words are like fire in my throat.
I ate my strained words for it hurt less not to share.

Love, my desire for intimacy deepened to depravity.

A warm flame in search of life lost in perpetual night

Your words were coarse, denying my worth, it’s warmth.

Love, I wish your words held less worth. 

Oh, love, I wish we weren't here 

in night eternal, where fog drapes the walls,

Its suffocating veil blurring what we were,

Floating away untethered in the dark,

A house hollowed by shadows and silence,
where faint whispers of our memories echo, then fade,

Their echoes swallowed by the void
Their warmth scattered like ash in the cold. 

Oh. Love, softness receded like the last rays of sunshine retreating into frigid night Love, that animated this house,  Love, that made the house alight, aloft, fell far under the thick blanket of fog, A fog that dimmed the lights, Concealed truths, sharp edges seeking freedom. Lone in bed I lay, wondering: if this cyclical shift is here to stay? I stare up into the void, night cast upon my ceiling.  The void became a perpetual night obscured by thick fog.

Was it my fault, the chasm growing?  If I voiced my needs less, would love still show? This is growing pains on the path to a better future together.  Remember his warm embrace. A distant memory, but kind and sweet.  The sun will shine for us again.  Remember being cherished, shown off to friends and family.  Why didn't he do those things anymore? Oh, love. Love once invigorating, Love now splintering, What could rid these walls of this fog To once again have love's sparkling light.

The thick fog of night blissfully conceals  The thick fog of night excites our joys, The thick fog of night compounds our pain 

I exit this house, and the cold light of day resumes. The fog in part dispels, giving way to ebbing beams of light, Thick bound to my heart, the tide pulls at me A reminder of joys lost in fog, A reminder of pain suspended lone in the dark. The daylight strikes odd, warm on my skin Asking son, Where have you been? Knowing no longer what to call Where I’ve been, I cannot find Any words to share. The sun embraces me, But oh, love, why couldn’t These arms be yours.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It Was Never Just Falling Out of Love

It Was Never Just Falling Out of Love You say you fell out of love— like the glass had cracked, spilling out the meaning of dreams, the sting of shared growing pains, hopes of home, the gilded laughter curled around our cats, our joy stretched across oceans and train rides. Like love just… poured from that once-hallowed glass, and now the nectar pools, forgotten, drying where no one kneels to gather it. But we were almost a decade in. You don’t lose that kind of time without feeling the unseen quakes— jarring bones, jarring memories. After you slept in someone else’s arms, my body forgot how to seek yours, and yours forgot how to reach. We slept on different floors, in different worlds, each night drifting out to sea, no one left steering us home. And I felt it— the shift, that slow retreat dressed in quiet like it was mercy. The new rhythms we rehearsed in silence: rising alone, still wondering if you'd notice the empty side of the b...
Read more

Upon a Quiet Night

    Upon A Quiet Night It’s surreal, this walking upon the earth—jockeying and wrestling with yourself to stake deliberateness, to claim intention, to become something you yearned for, something that once bore fire in your heart. From quiet self-revolution in spaces outgrown, to traversing avenues physical and liminal previously unknown. It is eerie to sit down upon a quiet night and host the ghosts of traveling souls here no more. To hold the voices and personalities of those once loved and tenderly cared for, now revolving in space somewhere else—off in a distant place without a trace, or crossed over to the world beyond. The residue of loves discovered, or connections tempered, never quite fades. Upon a quiet night, if still enough, the atoms in space hoist their charge—their beauty bursts in magnificent ways. The myriad versions of self that became present and possessed your body become strange—variably close in memory. Some farther, some closer. Some buried, some ha...
Read more

Lightning Tatters, Mirrors Shatter

 It’s comical the slowness with which a face changes. I caught glimpse of myself a couple months ago.   Pale, brooding, spiraling—   I spent more time in the sun than was optimal.   It’s comical, those subtle changes.   A lifetime ago, the mirror would smile—   warm, happy, the feeling   reverberating from glass to lips.   It’s comical,   this mirror holds all,   this mirror holds nothing.   I strike me, the mirror.   It’s comical how it sees—   now more complete.   Cracks crinkle, cracks crinkle into different cracks.   The opulent hue of bliss   that lights a smile—   the deep cold tremor   that lurks below a long look.   The rich vein of love ran dry,   idles in still eyes.   My face, at once a still meadow,   weathers the emotive seasons.   Ebb and flow ...
Read more