Dark Womb

The depths of me are strewn over the ruin of my heart’s desire. To think that I could have love within my grasp yet see it fall into eternal fire. The soul within me is shattered glass, wounding me deeply in many hidden places unmercifully. The very marrow of my being cries out for an oasis of love, but still, love shuns me like a leper walking slowly into a vast city. Perhaps I held on too tightly to the thing that I wanted mostly. In my desolation there is no feminine touch or sweet words to comfort me. My tears fall on the remnants of brokenness. I am hungry and thirsty in a harsh wilderness. Oh, what I would give for one last kiss. I have become a wonderer stumbling in darkness; trying to find my way back to unconditional love in its pureness. The secret diaries of my heart want to remain hidden, but tears force me to write this. In a cold, dark, and desolate place I am my own witness. There is no substitute for a woman’s love. I tried to hide within my own heart, but my own heart calls out for her every time the depths of me are uttered. I try to bury memories daily with sad songs and intricately spoken eulogies — but memories refuse to die and go silently. I had hoped for a new resurrection within me, but her face is all I can see. Her face is all I can see. Haunt me, my love; haunt me, is what my soul screams loudly. Is there no reprieve for the unloved and the exhausted? Sleep does not come easily, if at all. I have had the carnal affections of many women, but it is the the whispers of only one that so moved me. Without even a touch, she captured me in totality. Her hair is like a black river flowing endlessly; her eyes are a wondrous mystery; her lips are the softness and sweetness of honey. I stretch my hands forth, hoping that I can capture a sliver of her aura. She is as beautiful as the joyous singing of archangels. Haunt me, my love. Haunt me. Let your love fall upon me and baptize me in the depths of your soul. The pain in my eyes do not lie. Passersby may stare at me with curiosity as I openly cry. Let them stare and draw near to the sound of my voice so they can hear the novel of the desolate and unloved. I desire a new resurrection secretly — but her face is indelible upon me. I am a leaf in the fall carried by the wind hoping to land on the peaceful river of a woman’s heart. I have sojourned in cold darkness for so long; for so long. Oh, to hear the voice of a woman singing a beautiful song. I was once a baby in the safety of my mother’s womb, carried for many months until delivery, and then I became a man only to see love leave me. I call on heaven to safely deliver me again, but this time from the clutches of torment and misery. The dark womb of the unloved is so cold and lonely. The dark womb of the forsaken is unforgiving and filled with misery.

The End of Whispers

Death whispers in cold breaths promising solace in the throes of agony;
I will take away the pain if you just let me.
Hair drapes over a chair in a dimly lit room at 2:30.
Faces in picture frames stare unemotionally.
Her makeup is perfect;
Her lipstick and lashes, immaculate.
Through a child’s eyes she would be a beautiful doll.
Her final act is the unabridged revelation of her torment.
In her unmasking there are no subtleties;
There are no whispers;
There are no mysteries to the state of her reality.
Lifelessness is displayed crudely;
Its finality is its cruelty.
Outside, early morning rain falls in darkness.
Inside, there is a preternatural stillness.
She is gone forever, leaving behind possessions,
And the blood of her essence.
She wept in her last moments, listlessly whispering
Words that no one could witness.
Tears that fell from her eyes,
Carried the agony of her remnants.

Cold Stillness

Leaves blow in frigid winds.
Illness incapacitates, 
Leading to listless state.
Long held tears are shed
In cold stillness.
Memories of past loves
Vaguely appear.
Silence is shattered
By sudden wailing.

The condensation of
Heavy and rapid
Winter breaths are clearly seen,
but forlorn is cloaked in
A black hoodie.
Wailing ceases,
And apparent calm transcends.
Warm blood spills on cold snow;
Stillness is frigid.

The Depths of Her Pain

Cold fall winds blow
A woman looks out of a window
The eyes that stare are the eyes of sorrow
This is not the mask of joy she wears
For these eyes are the eyes that people don’t know
In silence and loneliness she suffers
And she will wear her mask again tomorrow
To perform her daily and arduous show
But if one could get past the mask
To see her pain and daunting task
And offer a comforting place for tears to flow
Then the depths of her they would know –

I battle against the waves of despair
My head barely above water 
It seeks to drown me 
It seeks to take me under
My anxiety builds; it taunts me
It threatens to tear me asunder
I am afraid,
Will I remain or will I falter?
I will let out tears,
And leave my burdens at God’s alter;
I will try to patiently wait for my rescue
As I wade in the lonely, deep, and dark waters.

Love I Wait


Loneliness why do you haunt me? Why do you follow me without fail? I have tried to loosen your grip on me but you persist in your dogged pursuit of me. Release me; release me I say. I have longed for the comfort of a woman for so long now that I can’t count the days. I have pursued companionship and love to no end. I have been jeered in the streets as a madman walking down the lonely road of failed attempts at love. Love where are you? Companionship why do you escape me? I have sought you day after day. I have sought you at night in intimate settings and dark lounges but once again you escape me. I have pursued you in beautiful fields of lush greenery in the warmth of the summer. I have written vows of commitment and rehearsed them with solemn intent. I have prepared lovely vineyards and gardens for our evening walks and enjoyment. I have built a beautiful abode for your comfort. I have selected precious metals for your adornment and set aside diamonds to seal you as my one and only. In my dreams I kiss you and we exchange our vows as I look upon your radiant smile. Love, I will wait for you. I will seek you no longer, but I will wait for you to come to me. I will think about you in the morning and hope you find me in the dusk of the twilight. I will dream, dreams of passion and desire and think of our wonderful life together. I will keep our bed warm until you come to me. Do not wait another season to find me love, for loneliness might take me away.

The Lonely Hours

He reaches for her, but she is not there. Her scent still lingers in the place she slept. Strands of her hair are found on pillows. Again he reaches for her, but she is gone, never to return. In the late hours he sheds tears. Sleep has not been a friend to him. Peace has left him. Happiness has eluded him for two winters now. He is lost in the innermost workings of his mind. Hopelessness rushes in like water from a broken dam. Even though he puts up a strong barrier, it presses against the door. Waiting to invade his thoughts. Waiting to wreak its havoc.

He can withstand it for a time, but only for a time. Maybe he will make it through winter; maybe he will see the bloom of spring, and feel the warmth of summer. Still it waits, bearing down its full force upon his will, taunting him, laughing at him. He misses her; he misses her so much. Tears flow once again at the thought of her memory; her soft touch. He is tired. He is so tired. His movements are slow, and his will is weak. His barrier cracks and splinters.

Hopelessness seeps through. It is followed by loneliness. Depression makes its entrance. Following closely behind are fear and anger. They slowly wind and make their way through his system like poisonous molasses choking his life force and corrupting his once endless energy. A beautiful garden is turned into an unsightly bed of weeds, and waterfalls are dried up. Ripe fruit is turned rotten and given to the worm. He is tormented day and night. He seeks rest like a wild scavenger seeks food, but there is none to be found.

Darkness surrounds him and misery peers through his window to bear witness to his demise, but he remembers her warmth, and their time together. He remembers her laughter and her joy; he vividly sees her face and the light of her life shines brightly in his being. The movie of her love and life play in his mind, and he is strengthened. Her glowing face is amplified in his thoughts and his joy comes back to him. Fear and anger dissipate. Depression is trampled. Hopelessness is utterly rooted out and destroyed. Only loneliness abides. He misses her.