Ghosts of the Heart
Within my dreams I have needless conversations
And sometimes . . .
Regret stands so close I can feel its insulting breath.
Unrelenting is the "what if" theory that plays on
Until the opening of my eyes . . .
For explanations, I hang on to and anticipate their whispers.
Then nightly terrorized slumbers compel my inner demons
Taking over my heart . . .
A door to my soul locked, a spent key hidden inside.
1 comment:
love the poem
it really rings true for me,
those counter arguments you come up with in your mind for conversations that haven't even happened
good skills
Deon
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