Like raw ripped wounds,
Like unheard birthday wishes,
Like shattered bones that never heal;
     you still haunt me (with indecision)

Like unruly ghosts,
Like restless spirits,
Like fractured souls;
     you still haunt me (with silence)

Why does it still hurt,
burning like the unforgiving
August sun?

Why do your dated words still bring me,
much like the moment of their release,
the same unadulterated joy --
inundating a blistered heart with
bittersweet, acidic nostalgia?

The moment I realized I stood alone;
When I reached out to catch the raindrops
Falling from a shaken sky,
Shy from shaken faith.

In a moment of honesty --
is silence better than the truth,
and what for?

09/09/2003

Posted on 09/09/2003
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