From the Rain

Based on another little sketch.

I don’t have much to say really. I’m doing okay. Drawing on my last piece of ply wood is taking up good time, distraction and all that. Oh, and I’ve had another chance to finish recording a song I wrote. With the way my house is, it’s hard to get time where its totally quiet. My recorder picks up everything.

This poem doesn’t have a title yet. I’m still writing a lot, I’m just going slow with editing. It’s like I write then throw it somewhere and have it sit for days, anyway…

The last I wished them goodnight
I’d been writing my goodbye

But somehow the lamp was thrown
And broke into its pieces

Nothing else is life except
Our grief in empty reasons

You are my only friend
Your hands stay tight around my neck

Kill me, I’ve been begging you
And you’re trying your best

Real beyond my trepidation
You have my grave here in this dark

In your soul, your airlessness
At the end of all my lives

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2 Comments

Filed under poems

2 responses to “From the Rain

  1. That painting is just beautiful. I love how it looks three dimensional.

  2. It almost reminds me of the icicles we get after a cold night. It really is lovely.

    “You are my only friend
    Your hands stay tight around my neck

    Kill me, I’ve been begging you
    And you’re trying your best”

    You wouldn’t believe how many nights I spend awake thinking those very thoughts, willing that sick mood to descend onto me to the point that I lose myself in it. I hope you’re alright, I really do. I’m so sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been getting so much overtime they are getting angry with me. I need it now, to stay distracted. But I regret that it has slowed down my friendship with you. I miss talking with you.

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