Are you my resurrection?
Cold dawn hallucination?
A shard of some broken memory
that cuts me deeply,
revealing long gone infatuation.
These things corrupted me,
right down to my bones
and I burned
hotter than a magma field
trying to get it out,
trying to forget,
those dreams
that were not dreams.
Crystal clear indications
that I chose to ignore,
because I was sick
of having to fight the current.
I was sick
of being dragged
always by the undertow.
That old river of blood
still flows down to nowhere,
but I had made my mind up.
I had punched my ticket,
I had paid my token
to the river man
to grant me passage.
I was halfway across
when you revealed
your gorgeous scorpion’s tail.
I never saw it coming.
Dream demons.
Midnight terror mind.
Oh, I know where all this goes.
This is the illusion of want.
The un-slaked thirst,
dry desert
mirage oasis
that is only a projection,
an illusion,
a misperception.
You were never there.
I was all alone
and this fresh hell
will find this flavour lacking,
for I have become bitter and tough.
I don’t fall for the fade
like I used to;
so the illusion
is just a trick,
a little sleight of hand
and you are a hallucination;
a day dreamer’s lament.
A piece of grit in the eye
is not a tear worth shedding.
A little trick of light
is not a revelation.
I have learned well
how to swim
and wrestle the river monsters.
I carry a knife now
to pop those thought balloons.
I can wake up
from this lucid nightmare
and see that infatuation
isn’t what it once was.
HG – 2017
