These Passing Days
I am no longer dreaming dreams of you. ‘You’ are no longer a person but a concept, a representation of pain. ‘You’ exist in nightmares only, ‘you’ at a distance, fizzling and fading, burning sticks in no mans land, burning away, smoke fills the air, smoke rises as I turn away. ‘You’ – nothing but a pile of ashes in a deserted street. I will not walk that way anymore.
And now me; I am fizzling, not fading, fighting and fearing. I am full of life, full of myself, full of anxiousness. I remain, after you facilitated my discovery. I sway, oscillate, and now I am in recovery. Positioning carefully, full of ware, pinching tears together, holding them in.
Most of all I want to be safe.
From ‘you’ since you insist on haunting me.
And now again, I assert my new found calmness.
I am calm.
A face says a thousand words, if you choose to listen...