That I could hold her hand again.

God.
That I could hold her hand again.
A dream I take to sleep with me.
I die.
In painful tears which weep through loss.
I pause.
& dream.
Engulfed in darkness I sit with thought.
& silence bleeds.

I seek her hand once more, though none arrives.
Dreams I take to bed with me.
I speak to her but no response.
A quiet field of empty blanket found
An empty bed of love.
With flowers of remorse.

This heart which trembles in mute & lost, forgotten play
I see you there within my mind
A stabbing, painful memory
From the past my tears they fall.

My wrists would bleed if fate could change
& her body breathed again.
& held my hand.

I cry for you.
In quiet times.
In darkest echoes of the night, like now.
A tear rolls in sad recline.
Broken mind which stands by day
Shudders in the flood by night.

If love exists then hold my hand
& bring the radiance of your smile,
Return to me.
But pass, neglect this pain which fills my heart
Bring forth such joy which I once knew.

I retire now to death’s dark door
In weary battered illusion born
Where I may die & prostrate cry
Myself to sleep
& deep
oblivion.

~ darkness real takes over thoughts, as the night alone surrounds. A heavy night.
© ed simkins
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWIE0PX1uXk

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2 thoughts on “That I could hold her hand again.

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