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

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