A Poem About Love and The End [I Write Poety]

Dream Hearkened Endings


It was a white room where we met.
In the fog of dreams and war,
we found solace in the empty void.
Whispers of a long dead love
resuscitated into a shouting chorus.
Time refusing to move forward
while words spilled between our
bruised and bloodied forms.
Both aware of the stalking misery
that waited to embrace us
when the silence finally set.

Night after night and bathed in white,
we would lick the wounds of our lives.
Holding on to the peace in that moment
before we sulked back past the threshold.
Back into the jagged pathways of our minds.
You, in to the swirling chaos of doubt
and perpetual confusion.
Afraid to take even the smallest of steps
as to avoid the inevitable destruction
that would ripple when you do
and bring it all crashing down

Me, tossed in to the raging storm
that whips with razors against my skin.
Thunderous insults booming out
a story of a man who will never be loved.
Eroded into nothing more than just
a whimpering child at the base of a tree
waiting for someone to find him
and bring him home.
The embrace of loving arms never comes.
Just the jolt of reality and the days
ahead left to fight and face.

It was a white room where we met.
Where you waited for me to come.
Crossing into the whirl of my darkness
only to find that the storm had calmed.
The sun was out and dancing
to the sounds of birds chirping.
Dew gripping on each blade of grass,
as if to preserve its life in the face of summer.
You find a boy sitting under a tree.
Broken beyond what fate can fix.
Giving only two words, “I’m sorry”