I stare into the abyss of the coming day,
hours I dread coming so fast
like a train on a foggy day
appearing like a ghost
so suddenly,
I shake myself awake
after dreams so vivid
but now they’re all faded
erased from my memory.
I count to ease the things
of memory that sometimes
rush like a flood
overwhelming me
as I attempt to live my life
forgetting the trauma
that has brought me here.
If only I could not be alone
I could dream those pleasant dreams
every night without the worry of
reliving something so dark from my past.
I could kiss his lips,
kiss his hips,
feel his embrace
while he’s inside.
These hours of life bring me back
to what’s real and what is not.
I’m without a love
and sometimes it hurts
to be on my own in this World.
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Jason Whitaker 