poetry

[251] An Old Night

by Rahul Gaur

Confessing numbness
Caressing depression
I’ve forgot to look
in the right places
Forgotten dreams
of a mighty dynasty
I live in abeyance
Like a lonely sun

No visible illness so
you deny my right to feel
I deny my right to bleed
I lie down in hopes
I’ll rise again
A sharp thought flows
through my veins
I fly with its force
in an abyss of my display

Intimacy is denied
conversations with empathy
A smile that curves my membranes
into a mess of all that remains
An unheroic display of strength
Devilish winks to destroy all that I built

Why will I wallow in my potential?
Why will I let you pick up gravity?
All I feel are routine assumptions
that this day will be an exception
All I feel is a routine optimism
that this night will immune me
of all that is there still left to feel
of all that I can never be
of all that I will presume
of all that you can never see

15 thoughts on “[251] An Old Night”

  1. Pingback: [251] An Old Night | Slattery's Magazine
  7. Pingback: [251] An Old Night — Smoke words every day. | Slattery's Magazine

Leave a Reply