Deep, black.
This chasm that divides us,
though, if it were
only one inch of division,
it may as well be
the distance to the Moon.
I reach out,
but my arms do not span
the vastness of the gulf
that separates us.
I call out,
but my voice is far too weak
to make a noise great enough
to reach you.
I could build a bridge,
but bridges can be dangerous
and sometimes, they are built
with our own
skin and bones,
so by the time we reach each other,
there is nothing left to embrace.
Deep, black.
The abyss that separates us.
In some ways
it may be what defines us.
It is the void
into which we might cast our cares,
that place of no return,
where nothing can escape.
A great place
for disposing of emotional detritus.
Discarding loss
and pain
and sorrow,
into the vast space between us,
because the void doesn‘t care.
I have heard you speak
the words in my head
and I would say them in kind,
only if they would not be lost.
Deep, black.
The silent fear.
The gnawing regret,
that also goes into the pit,
the gulf, the incomprehensible abyss…
… and I turn away.
It can be dangerous
to shine a light
into the darkness.
HG – 2016
