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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2313486
For her and I love was as broken as could be

Upon The Wind
by Keaton Foster

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Upon the wind
She whispers
Again
Silent words
Spoken aloud
From here
Not so close
Verbose
Understanding
What is meant
Truth in meaning
Viable the illusion
Hearing what is wished
No fact holds weight
Sadness
Such a fool
I love her
I lived her
But now
No longer
Never again
Are we alive
Or any kind of living
Upon the wind
Forgiven I am not
She is not angry
Nor is she happy
She is numb to us
To any of this
But I feel it all
And I hear even more
Her whispers
Are my nightmares
I can hear them close
I can feel the far away
I know they are there
I am sure they are real
Even if she says nothing
All she does is speak
Upon the wind
Distance means less
Time and space
Are but a guess
My love for her
Is guttural in the sense
Silence quite heard
No one close to me
Or near me knows
Oblivious bastards
Sense my suffering
Feeling sorry for me
When sorry for me
Is what they should be
Least of all
I found this place
This statement obtuse
Hammering my skull
From the inside out
And outside in
Her words
Her whispers
Upon the wind
Again and again…



Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2024

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