I LONG TO TOUCH HIS FACE

trevorme

I see him in my mind’s eye.

He is dead, and so am I.

He floats alone in the ocean.

I have taken the dark potion.

His body slowly drifts near,

A countenance without fear.

I long to touch his face,

Not of the human race.

My spirit glides free.

And soon, so shall he.

I MUST SLEEP

I’ve fallen

to the depths

of my despair.

I must rest and

replenish my spirit,

revitalize my soul.

I will stand,

climb once more,

try to resume my life.

But first, I must sleep.

PRESENCE

I’m here.

For you.

BURIED ALIVE

lifeisthefight:

You can bury me,
Throw dirt on me
And walk away.
But I will survive.
I will dig my way free.
The human spirit cannot
be extinguished.
It will continue to shine
despite evil’s attempts
to destroy it.

Throw your dirt.

I will be back.

A GHOST OF ME

I sit on the bench,
watching the sun take flight,
and the moon move to position.
The stars begin to shine 
in the darkening sky.
All is well with the world.
The night will soon be here.

But all is not well with me.
I feel light.
I feel empty.
I feel transparent.
A ghost of my former self.
What has happened to me?
How will I go on?

One day life changed for me.
And all I had taken for granted
was gone in a second.
How will I go on living?
There is no one here on the bench,
but a ghost of me.

THE WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS

THE WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS

This would make a nice story.
Each night a woman appears.
She floats across the dimly lit garden.
No one knows where she came from
or who she’s looking for.
I look out my window
and see her every night.
One night she doesn’t appear.
Did she find what she was looking for?
Did she find her true love?
I will never know but I still wait for her.