Passionless
I hit the bottle hard as I stare
At veins, flesh, skin
Unresponsive and unknowing
These clouded over eyes see nothing
They see too clearly
Your joyous face is a sad paradox
To my own hollow heart
A deadness inside that is angered
by the mocking and ignorant glee
behind your child-like eyes
I scream out silence
A begging, a longing to be heard
But not forced to speak -
The truth.
A rose of memories
Wilts, browns, decays
Petals falling onto the dirty carpet
Grasping in vain at tattered pieces
That once held life
Forgive me, darling
For, your smile means nothing
No stirring of the heart
No bliss
© 2016 Marié Patricia Nicolina Murray