Ghost Love

How long I have sat and waited without knowing,

How better to hide from the world what it is that I feel inside,

Bent, holding my folded knees I keep what I know close,

Like a guarded secret or the very mystery of love,

The questions prickle from my body like wet feathers,

Challenged in their purpose and yet strangely serving another,

I survive in complexity, answers never seeming to fit,

Almost as if they are too simple, making a disbeliever out of me,

But never fading even in the very least from what I feel,

The cold edge of truth that steels my bones, unnerving,

I shiver to the touch upon my ashen scales,

Something invisible moves about slowly as if it longs,

I feel what it feels though one wouldn’t say,

Its promises of a stolen kiss sound like whispered lies,

It’s disturbing this having and yet not, something not there,

Or is it? I cannot tell from here through misty eyes,

With a blank stare that coolly un-imagines me from their world,

The damage is comforting if only for its realness,

At least I am in ways absolute it devastatingly reminds me,

In silent pain there’s serenity unrivalled in madness,

Love pales in the claimed stakes in the games of lunatics,

And I have been part and audience in equal measure,

Doing what is done and constantly asking why,

And hearing only the echoes of my own voice from long ago,

Coming back now in exaggerated syllables weathered by the years,

There’s a mewling or whimpering somewhere in there too,

But it is distinctly not mine as it comes and it goes,

I reach out towards what I don’t understand, trying to help,

Trying to heal, love myself and whatever it is that lurks…

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