Author Topic: On This Brink of December  (Read 1031 times)

Offline jmkllm

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On This Brink of December
« on: July 28, 2007, 05:25:55 AM »
On This Brink of December

Tragic how even the scale grew upset and confused
When you raised me to the heights of delirium
Then left me lingering in clandestinity
Past the haunts and abodes of desperation
Where we once resided,
So I ponder, “what’s another word for futile?’

This all started so sincerely with wisps of mystery
That quivered like butterflies and Valentine’s Day kisses
Before late November turned right toward obscurity
And the days began to slip out of reach and hide themselves
Amidst the promises you’d utter when tucking me in at night
Somewhere beneath the creases where insomnia might slither
Or where the moon might shiver itself into fragments of hope
Too bright and weighty to coddle or console.

I can sense the urgency on this brink of December
But it’s cold outside and this is just one more day
Alive in these woods where your failures are the wolves
I’d asked you to never let me acquaint myself with
And though I might just sneak past their ravenous hunt
You’ll persevere; continuing to offer empathy emptily
And you’ll fail to look beyond or into those cavernous scars
That your words or my woolen sleeves might conceal
Past that point where you might be just a sliver vulnerable
Where you’d display something more telling than a vacant shrug.

So yes, I’ve compiled all your sentiments into a narrative
That when reread tells the story of your fondness for glory
But I’m stuck on the touches and footprints that hang in silence
And in the oblivion I seek but never surmount in the mirror
Even when the lights are off and I’m not home
And if I’ve learned one thing from the wake you’ve left behind
 It’s that your goodbye bears a strong resemblance to my loneliness.