The roar of traffic, the murmur and thrum of the crowd
and the mournful winter wind, scouring the desert sand
and the inside of my soul is silent and still
like a raging river flash-frozen in mid-torrent
and eons have passed, the axis of the earth precesses, and still there is no thaw.

This night, like all nights, the shadows fended off by the
actinic light arcing from the fluorescent bulbs
this pale, wan facsimile of sunlight
without warmth, quenched, smothered by the darkness outside

In the throng, amidst the hither and thither of the still-living
I am alone
as if I were a ghost
unseen, unfelt, unacknowledged
I’m cowering in the interstices
pretending I don’t exist
and wishing that I didn’t have to pretend
but this futile un-life
the hour turns
the daylight burns
flickers, fades
extinguished
and the earth spins around again
the stars in their eternal dance

In the tumult of a million souls,
I am alone
unnamed, unclaimed
friendless
and damned
swimming through this murky sea
of brimming despair
even this cold numbness
cannot take the pain away
come to life and throbbing away
in the caverns of my rotten heart
desiccated and crumbling

The memories will forever haunt me
of what could never be,
of decisions and indecision
of words not spoken,
of chances not taken,
and what, what, what would it really matter,
knowing what I know
and why do I find myself taking this same downward spiral
never finding the bliss of oblivion
the silence of annihilation
tracing my futile footsteps
dancing a hopeless dance with my own shadow.