disintegrating
how much more of this do i have to lose?
i don’t have anything at all, you see? do you
and there will be nothing left at all of me
in the middle of it all sometimes a cry or tears
at the start it was better when it was real fear
now it’s just the opposite, the hollow breath
some would gather only enough until they’ve left
and then there’s the silence, the quiet haunt
started out starving for a chance at change
but if the heart’s gone, the blood thins, the body

gaunt

the night was never more a danger cheered
the wind a spectre  that sought the neck, and skies clear
i would walk amongst the spirits
i wouldn’t have to choose
they let me know before that where it was 
from farthest-not-here was impossible to be 
... and that where we were given here would always
steer us away from hoping to reach;
and so in Dreaming that we could ever breathe

again was futility all tried-and-true,
i would have stood a better chance in Hell
were i given a last glance of my love for you.
99 Jan 22 (c) copyright owned by Siddharta Somar 
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