Remembering love’s existence
Should be a sweet river of joy,
Light in a land weary of life.
There should be music in this
Flesh, a mind stunned to still
And stars visible in the sun.
But the slightest touch is
A glancing blow, bringing to
Life an unquenchable thirst,
Dark silence and bitter sleep.
This body seems broken, like
A thousand needle-pierced eyes
Blind to everything but the
Whole life of mad adventure
Of which I can never be a part.
I can’t count, much less face,
The memories of so many better
Men, so many vivid nights, so
Many flashes of impulse hotter
Than a bullet set in flight.
I don’t belong in the present
But in a blotted out long-ago
That is just an imaginary day.
I had that and was gone, the
Rest of me just a shadow so
Fragile it wavers in the wind.
They’ve all been final days,
Even the best, and I know it’s
All just loss upon loss now,
A game of shallow breaths in
The depths of the sea, a few
More minutes of oxygen staying
Lit far longer than it should.
I know the lesson of holding
On, but I also know the lesson
Is a lie that leaves out the
Rescue because it never comes.
I know too well how much I
Can never have what I need,
Will never be what I want,
Not even anymore for a day
Of forgetting as I used to
Feel whole and love was all
That mattered in the world.
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One reply on “The Green-Eyed Monster”
I enjoyed the muted emotion in this poem. It’s refelctive and yet, so measured, not bitter. I look forward to reading more of your wonderful poetry.