[Old Poem. ’08]
A preconcieved thought, vast, playing
On your every move. That shadowed figure
Predominant, unyielding. It flits, darting
Between each step you take, growing, bigger.
Plead the strings of my heart to stop
Providing that wonderful music. Feeling
Exhausts that well known melody. Ever fierce,
Ever so fine! O’! Crisp and wet, falling
Like snow flakes, your tears. No. They pierce
The skin, stinging at every blink they drop.
All you ever wanted in one embrace, breathing
In the fumes of poisonous pleasure. A whisper,
One word or two – enough to leave you gagging
For the sweet smell. New taste hits like a blur
Of colour, gathers loosely around your taste buds.
Search those clouded eyes in wild pursuit, itching
From the darkness. Slowly you become the nightmare
That began this heartache. The shadowed figure looming
Once again over your tired face. Lids close. Nostrils flare.
One last brush of hand on cheek. Then peace.