With these late thoughts

wondering where you’ve gone,

perhaps I’m the one,

lost, while wading around in this room.

A space that is vacant, yet cramped.

I’ve come to memorize every inch

there’s barely enough space

for my thoughts to gather properly.

First light comes this morning,

that eye opening moment

where you find the actual place

you’ve been placed all along.

Flooded with a last poem

I promise to change the chase now

I’m too exhausted to ask again,

I guess I’ll read about your outcomes,

or how it was,

when you turned out in the end.

The easier dream if ever there was

has been letting go of the one promise

writing close to 400 poems

that went mostly ignored.

Sure you glanced over your shoulder

flicking the tiny pests

to leave you alone.

Quite honestly,

I’m relieved to put this away

misfortune has never been

this sorrowful part of me.

Different shadows ask for my thoughts

my attention has turned for now

because I can’t quite understand

how being all silent

was ever justified,

especially since,

I would of paid to hear your voice.

Perhaps the price was paid

like some drunken slumber

I spoke too harshly in my sleep

when you actually heard

my guarded inner voice.