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Falling
Goodnight moon,
For your glow no longer
Brings me joy.
My arms grow tired
Of reaching for the stars
When they only return with dust.
My heart grows weary of pumping
My lungs of drawing air.
Falling is such sweet sorrow
For the sand of time turn up
The same at the end of every
Story. Small slices removed
From my body at birth
Remind me of the ones which
Will come in life.
With each drop of blood
Two more will follow.
Hand shake in violent
Protest to the oncoming
Cold.
When all is well and traveling
Fast we look to the future
With happy hearts.
Words are trivial and
Forgettable. Even
Hearts change in a matter of
Months. My fingers dig deep
Into my soul and cast out
My rib. That rib which has
A name in it. The rib from which
One was forged. Falling into
Darkness only brings back the
Old warmth I had in days of yore.
My poetry is focused
Not on love any longer
But loss. My one is gone,
And I am forced to find
Another to fill the void.
Cast my shadow back to the
Sea from whence it sprang
Even the early hours shall not
Console my inner turmoil.
Small red lines. All over.
My vision is clouded with sorrow,
But fault lies with me.
I am the bearer of sorrows,
As I have always been.
My back is weary, but alas
I can not remove its load,
For with my relief
Brings the tears of hundreds.
While drowning in the sorrows
Of other would be readily accepted
The fact they would have to feel pain
Due to me, this is more than I
Can handle, in truth. Many see me
As strong. I am weak. Weaker now than
Ever. And no-one is here
To catch me when I fall.
So I embrace it, and know that
When I fall,
I am falling alone.
