We Can Play Risk

Currently
Floating the crevices of existence like a malfunctioning satellite
Your cries are heard only by the dust and gases
surrounding your mirrored universe
Dimples and small fractures mar the surface creating topography uniquely yours

My silence is severed as I put paintbrush to wall
for the millionth time this week
Frantic tears freeze in the corners of these eyes
like this were Siberia, not New Jersey

I'm here jotting thoughts
You're in there, that dank cube of blackness

More out of place than a giraffe in Times Square
among the taxi's, crowds, and neon
the tears falling from your eyes fill this goblet of silence
until rivers overflow their banks

Though the details of the story are still only bits and pieces
scattered across the distance between us,
I still have faith in who you are as a person.  
I know with whom to place all blame (him.)

I imagine the drab walls, frost forming on their desolation
as loneliness stalks the night

Caged angel with clipped wings, out of place in that jungle of horrors
where the animals grow thirsty for raw meat
and the heat that rises from fear forms smog in the cities of forever.  

Cities where the buildings are marked with graffiti & etched with
makeshift carving tools and weapons to pass time.  
Where hearts are metallic, losing all electrical pulse
and where you are music(less) which I know is torture enough.  

Feel free to compartmentalize these torturous events
into a tiny red garbage can destined for the dimmest corner of your apartment.  
Fill your life once more with rapture.  

Anesthetize the past few days  
by spilling blood on paper when you're free.  
It has worked for me in the past (sort of.)

I miss you. To hear your voice will salve my jagged dreams (the toss and turn.)
Concern has flooded my basement as I anxiously await your return, clutching
your crystalline wings in my blistered hands...


COPYRIGHT 2011 WILLIAM BARKER