I just watched the second hand

cross the midnight hour,

we’ve entered morning now,

I’m awake,

I haven’t any idea how to sleep

with all that is happening

inside my mind,

piano solos in the background

help me find some peace

maybe a reflection of some kind.

 

I have a soft heart

easily bruised

I will bleed red

only internalized

so the affect I show my days

cannot be easily tied

to the ache inside

so an onlooker can be swayed

by the smile

that false pretense carries me

well through a weekend

of loneliness.

 

I remember one time

saying to someone I loved,

that I no longer felt lonely,

if I could look in her eyes,

and know she would search my own,

together we

found this lovely road,

yet,

neither one of us

wanted to admit out loud,

the road could only

run a certain path.

 

Now its late for you to read this,

perhaps you might feel

the same, idle eyes, hours of time

wondering what is next

wishing there might be

some solace inside

a torturous bit of self-doubt,

the ticket to finding our own

eternal path.

 

I spoke with someone tonight,

who talked about waiting

even when they knew themselves

the days, they would

turn beyond the hours,

hair turning gray to some attractive white,

bodies breaking down

yet heart and soul

alive …

a youthful integrity

of child in love.

 

I would sit all my night in silence

then smile for a word from her lips.

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© Scott F Savage 2019