Wednesday, July 05, 2006

come, old friend

darkness, my old friend
so you haven't forgotten me.
here you are... again.
somehow, I knew you'd come
to take me into your bitter embrace once more

how familiar you are, how so much a part of me
you have become.
you touch every corner of my being.

like a stealthy lover,
you steal up unnoticed
and gather me in your arms;
needing not my permission --
or even my awareness --
to enter me
to fill me
until I cry out
from the unbearable emptiness that you bring

darkness, you old friend
you familiar fiend
I hate you
for taking away my light.
the bright red flower of my smile, my laughter, my joy!
takes on the hue of blood
under your shadow...
a dark color as rich and deep
as my pain

you thief. you intruder. you murderer
of my gladness, my very soul...
I abhor you.
yet I turn to you now
and welcome your intimate embrace.

come, old friend.
come closer, you bastard.
I need you
to bring your cold lips to my face.
let me feel them
kissing away
these hot tears


Tainted Female said...

Despite what some people might think… I believe prose is more than just poetry and says more than any rhyming or structured based writing can possibly do. With this piece, I image you’re probably about as Bipolar as I am and thus feel with and for you.

Lizza said...

Oh, thank you! I knew I'd find someone with a similar brainwave frequency. :)