I see you,
Beneath the torn blanket,
Wrapped in the cities cruel embrace,
Chilled by her breath,
Your home an inconsistant thing,
That moves to any doorway,
A spirit broken by life,
That makes you view with apathy,
Each hurrying passer-by.
Waiting my turn,
For your attention,
Seeking for any escape,
A chance to miss your gaze,
Glib lies rising,
To the tongue,
As I see the pleading within your eyes,
Lies that remain unspent,
As I walk on by.
Split images fracture in the mind,
Touching at conciousness,
On wings of gossamer memory,
Far off echoes of the past,
Soft as a heartbeat,
Dying in the darkness;
Sad as the cries,
For a lost child;
Torments in a self made hell,
Where all those doubts you ever had;
Secrets kept and promises broken,
Are known and used,
With no chance for the glib lie,
Easing the exquisite pain ,
That works with pleasure,
Upon the rack of truth,
Seeking only pain within,
Your private nightmares