by Wendy Geal
Your silhouette, a statue
that when looking upon
As if I were the statue itself
in the epicenter of a quake, a
My past, a ghostlike presence that
sends me shivers, mistaken
for lashes at the idiotic things
I should not have done.
Pretending that this is a different life,
I imagine one new
My dreams, my afterthoughts are all collected here.
It is my heaven; I have a haven in your comforting skin.
I have comfort in knowing that
our minds cross paths at the exact intersection.
I have never had a sane moment of normalcy until now.
And love, when your world is all rolled up into one ball of perfection
and your dreams come true, Ms. Right,
Please do not forget me.
I will be there in all my flesh.
Though my spirit is wrapped
somewhere else, some other
torturous place that I pretend is not there.
Stay quiet, love, and meet me at the midnight stroke
at our intersection that only you and I know
Speak pretty words to me,
until I have enough breath to stay alive.
Your voice is the alarm
luring me from self-harm.
Posted on 09/07/2011
Copyright © 2020 Wendy Geal