Monday, October 2, 2006

All the Nothing That is Left

I am so tired of waiting on you.
You.
Who are you after all?
Who am I to you?
Do you know? Do you care?

I am suspended here, in time, in space
Longing, anticipating,
What for?
For the day you discover you love me?
No. I already know it will never arrive.
For the day when you break my heart?
That day has already come and gone and come and gone and come again.

Now you break my heart daily.
In between the petty and small words that you say
Lie all the chasms and chasms
Of aching, sharp, splitting words that you withhold.

Words that I need,
Words that heal or kill.
It doesn’t matter which way it goes
So long as it shatters this stubborn inertia,
Goes forward, moves back, does something.

Ask me to live without you.
I can!
Beg me to be yours forever.
I will!
But don’t, don’t, please don’t
Abandon me to this crushing oblivion of black uncertainty.

You have left me nothing to cling to
So I cling to all the nothing that is left.
Flinging myself upon it I fall, tumbling,
Into the bottomless abyss of all the words left unsaid.

And this is all that is left,
For me to fall and fall forever
With the darkness growing deeper and heavier
While the light fades hopelessly, inaccessibly, unrelentingly
Further and further away.

And still I wait for you?
And still I wait for you.
You are nothing.
But you are all the nothing I have left.