tiny little daggers.

do you feel that?
it’s cold in here,
words like tiny little daggers of ice…
when what i sensed was warm,
and neither were directed at me,
though i’d like to think they were,
on some secret level that i leave exposed
and bleeding all over the place…
and i suppose,
i hope,
i pretend,
that it is-
and that somehow i can elicit it
again like before-
won’t you slide up to me?
next to me?
close to me?
whisper in my ear
like you did that morning
before the sun shone
before my eyes opened
before i awoke from the dream
that consumes most of my life
no more.
and i ponder that spark
that which draws me nearer to you
and you further from me
that moment shared
and what i do to lose it-
to make you run,
not far,
still close enough
so that i can plainly see
how you shut down
and then throw tiny little daggers at me-
just enough to keep me at a distance,
but i will linger…
because i’m needy like that
clinging to that
unable to relate in any other way
than that.
daddy issues where there was none
where i place him on the pedestal,
next to everyone that looks like him
if only by species…

, , ,

  1. #1 by SalvaVenia on May 20, 2014 - 12:18 am

    Anguish, truth, incertitude, and a premonition of a caressing, loving verity, able to open the blossoms of heart and soul in peace and serenity, which is still too far away.

  2. #2 by John Thursday on June 16, 2014 - 6:39 pm

    Anguish. Excellent word choice. This is a very emotionally powerful piece.

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