Tom Wood

A Quarter Past Ten

I’m looking for

A slight distraction

Listening for

My call to action

 

Empty laughs no longer hold

Joy: this ploy is getting old

 

Scream, cry, call

Ripples the night sky

No one there

Stop breathing air

And hope I’ll be put to sleep

 

Hugs are cold, forced, fake

Alone, colder; as I shake

And feel my heart quake

Feel my battered heart break

 

Can I see? 

Darkness, my distraction

Leaves pain, cold pain

My call to action

 

Leave me here to sleep

And listen to the night

Hear the waves toss and turn

Cry when your chest will burn

For you have won this fight

And that, my friend…

 

You were right