Fragments of Me
Life, the frozen scream
of a still born child.
Grayness, despair overshadowing
the brightest day,
her brilliant blue darkened
with gray stained gloom.
Happiness, a ghoul, a languid ghost
mocks, taunts, aloof in the periphery.
in bone deep isolation,
hands reaching for salvation
in a dark, chilling pit
of quiet, lonely suffering.
The tidal push and pull,
between life and
the siren call of non existence.
Breathing, a mother dead in childbirth.
The darkness sinks its teeth into flesh
until I am undone by the unrequited thirst
of the doomed soul in love with death.
A rose garden,
in half bloom.