I cease within my decree
no longer can I see the
person I had hoped to be.
Denial thrown thrown back
in the face off withering hope,
that gropes with dead desire.
Poleaxed by want, which quenched
the spark that was not my flame
blame was never my game.
Was gone before I was there, tears
that swell would never be enough to
drown a lifetime of disappointment.
There is no ointment to feather my
scar, no healing words without reproach,
the person I had hoped to be died within me.