Angry eyes looking
away
from my regret.
Hurt in your language
as you walk around
in my clouded dreams.
Can I just talk to you?
Fear, sadness, pain
costumed in Halloween
absurdity.
I try to find you
among the monsters
of despair.
I miss you, awake,
asleep- outside of time,
that does not heal.
This gaping, forever
fresh, deep wound
that is the absence of you.
Trudi Ralston.
August 15th, 2012.
This poem is for a very dear person I loved and lost in the terrible family war that shredded all illusion of being part of a group of people that cared about each other. JTW, this is for you.
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