Anything But Pictures

I try to find some solace

In the day, hoping that light

Should staunch the dark of

My eyes, my heart . . .

The chasm where my soul

Used to be.

Leaning in the doorframe

Misty as a moondrop

The light proves too revealing--

My guts scream fire

Bouncing 'round inside me.

There is no comfort but

The craving.

I stagger from the frame,

Steadied not by the

Everyday daggers

Lurking around corners,

Or on shelves

Brick-a-brack bringing burning memories . . .

No light, no, no, no . . .

The dark proves too inviting.

No spark of hope

Burns behind these

Incandescent tears.

Who knows where shadows dwell,

Where Hurt hides until it hunts?

Who knew the human heart

Was photosensitive?