your self
your self is a lonely spirit
sometimes you can search all night
and still be nowhere near it
sometimes you can run and run
trying to fix some thing you've done
and when you finally say you've done it
there's no one there to hear it
just like in those woods, callous woods
white trees stripped bare by winter's dare
to die once more before you live
and if you've been you know the silence
punctuated only by the creaking
of the trees that wait with utter patience
for the life force they are seeking
but of which it's no use speaking
when ears are deaf in their complacence
and you and hopelessness
have long since made your acquaintance
deep inside place where no one else can go
~
2011 - 2013