There were times when my life and dreams were perfect
Reflections, the moon and stars suspended in the water
And the sky, a diary of wonders written while they lived,
Everything to me before they died like submerged cinders.
Years of growing further and further away from love and
I am nothing but the shell between myself and the world
Of warmth and shadows, my animating spark a memory
Vague and shifting as a lost world of unborn prehistory.
Want and fear face each other in me like a hall of mirrors,
Tripwires and trenches in a moonscape of losses, every
Dip and rise surrendered to an angry mob and an army
Of ghosts, each breaking ground for the other’s victories.
The smallest of birds left my hands carrying a message
Addressed to no one, go on without me, take this hope
And make it your own, for I know nothing but to go on
Until the smallest step is too long and I must stop myself.