Wednesday, November 18, 2009

when are you coming back?

"i need an eraser."
fumbling around behind curtains i don't care to open.
wouldn't matter, because here comes the fever.
here comes the illness.
the weak sinking into the hollowed hole.
everything goes dark.
clouds of doubt looming to block out the stars.
turn the lights on, please?
or rock me to sleep.
these are my twisted words.
really, yours quite misused.
and yours are lullabies.
and i can't find it...
i can't forget it...
i can't leave it...
"now, hush anxious one," he said
"it fades slow.
it erases, i'm sure.
you'll remember, but soon forget.
it goes.
it surely dies.
now, hush."
and just above a whisper, sang to my constricted muscles...
sang to my heavy heart
sang to my weary lungs
sang to my swollen eyes
sang to the wounds and dressed them with every syllable.
"rest, my love.
rest, now.
sleep comes.

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