It's only that I lay dying bedridden in darkness

along your sorrowful company and indifference,

sheltered under silence,

a silence that announces oblivion,

oblivion that tortures and suppresses

those cherished moments engraved in my mind

 

Submerged under brimming thorns of tears,

seeking to find the path into your heart,

finding only a distant and abstract goodbye

that undermines each issue of this story,

that exudes in my veins and flows

onto this skin of anguish and despair

 

Were you unaware of the sculpted feelings that,

drop by drop, mention your name

in this unavoidable ritual of endless craving?

 

Loneliness falls upon me,

rips off my life

and the moon was there, distracted,

with the same enigmas which I already knew...

 

It's only that...

the coldness that crosses my door,

lives in my skin, heightens my restlessness,

pokes my numbed and rusted imagination

as a cue of your farewell

 

I fail to give rest to this naked and delirious melancholy

that persistently falls where times stops,

twirling around my wet lips as antithesis to pain;

not even death would comfort

the carved feelings that char my life

 

Your absence tonight

leaves me breathless...

unpityingly tearing me up

and lives on in me

 

And it's then when I quietly tread your valleys,

in the sanctuary of my imagination,

because I feel your fingers sliding on my body,

sinning every night in my dreams,

but I awaken and I’m nothing more

than a link in the chain of your heart

 

It's only that...

 

©Noris Roberts