Lost in the fog
of my great expectations
I sit
motionless...emotionless
like a wretched
Punk Gothic
Miss Havesham
dressed in the rags
of what might have been
& what
...wasn’t.
My heart
a hurt
I nurse
grief greedy
as a suckling child
clasped upon
my breast
eating it’s way through to my heart.
Chained by the cobwebs
of loneliness
to this
sorrow
this
grief
that won’t be
assuaged.
A mirror
captures my reflection.
An animal
I howl.
The moon disowns me.
Eaten alive
by candlelight
& shadow
the flames
inviting me
to dance
once again.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-3-d-object-in-2-d/
