If only you knew how many,
these unsent letters
that I write to you...
..all poured out in my head;
this river of words
with no earthly destination,
serving only sorrows needs
as the heart marks time
in its desert landscape;
this no-mans land
that I have made
my own
foolish empire.

Somewhere along the way,
we both thought I
had changed,
but it was only my clothes
that were different.
Seduced by fashion,
I tore my wedding suit
to rags
with the mad haste
of a burning victim.
But it hurt me more
than you could
ever know;

I think about you

You are the emptiness that my words can never fill,
the face on my shroud that no tears can wash away.
Here only the ashtrays and the glass are replete,
where once we filled each other..
Who was it said “youth is wasted
on the young?”
then surely love was wasted
on the truly loved.
I tried to mend my clothes again
but the needle was weak
and broke in two.
Can you believe…
if we ever meet again
that all along I was still the same..,?
but we were lost in the fog of grief
and neither of us could see the truth
any more.
Even now, when the party swings
with the new crowd, I am
as I always was.
the one who sits outside
up in the branches
singing to the stars
listening to the moon
loving you,...
But it is not the same any more.
Come back and share my
solitude again...please...
this foolish emperor

needs you.

© Steve O'Kane