One a.m, I am guarding the castle, flicking cigarette ashes onto the new green grass
my throne just a stone step with no view except field, but it is mine
I used to think the same about you
Used to believe all I wanted was to explore your morning dew
But that has settled, hasn't it? And as much as I linger, my feet are drier than before.

Another puff and flick,
I never used to smoke.
But it fascinates me now, the way its' poison curls look so seductive by the glow
of a forty watt bulb
Like you and I, I suppose.

My eyes travel everywhere, trying to divert the thought of you

Two kids go by slowly on bikes.
The crickets chirp.
(God, what have I done to my marriage?)
I have work tomorrow.
It is late?
(What can I do to save myself?)

Eyes travelling up, I watch the moths flock to my light, flickering a shadow against the brick and glass
It makes the time pass
Slow.

But it still cann't take my mind from you.

Mind melting into a memory lapse, I try to remember how long it has been since I loved you. I mean, truly loved you.

It is liek asking the wind if it knows what direction it is taking
It won't stop to tell you it knows either way
It just blows, and at first it seems strong and gusty and alive,
but you get used to it.
Like you and I.

It is one thirty.
The streets are tired, moths are still dancing, cigarette has burned out...
How odd I can relate to all three.
The night wind whispers goodbye to me
As the door slams it out for another night.

Fantastic poem, Carina. It's so amazing how pain can inspire such talent and beauty. It reminds me that everything happens for a reason and that we grow the most from hurt and honesty. Your passion is inspiring.

Smile