morose muse

i used to be beautiful. before i cared about loss, letting go and moving on. vibrant and earthy, i cherished life and expression. until i sank into the putrid stench of self protection. the sun is not brilliant. day is not driven in front of the dawn. fog and desolation swirl in eddies of ennui and trite banalities. deaf to the music around me, i’ve fallen. i am unable to progress. frozen like the patterned frost on clear glass in the dark early hours of a winter morning. waiting for the cold warmth to seep into fragile bones and let me fall into a peaceful sleep where awareness will never touch the sadness in my eyes, ever again.

This entry was posted in Poems, Relationships and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to morose muse

  1. H.H. says:

    I am sad to read this, but I also think it’s beautiful writing.

  2. I hope the black dog leaves you soon…

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