Missing

I achieved everything
what I wanted.
Worked hard for many years
to be somebody
as I wanted.
I don’t understand
I’m still missing something
Is that you?
Your absence.
I abandoned
the memory of you.
Didn’t want to think
about you somewhere else
not being here
next to me.
I’m missing something
I don’t understand
I should be happy
as I wanted.
Don’t I have everything?
I have everything
but you.

© W. Donovan

Marble silence

We think we have time.
We never say what we feel.
We never say what we want to say
at the moment.
We hide it in complicated words
which mean nothing
don’t say anything directly
don’t explain anything.
We don’t talk about what’s important.
We’re scared
of shame
incomprehension
rejection.
We think we have time.
Until the other person goes away.
Then we realize
that we’ll never tell him again
about anything.
We won’t say what we feel
what we always wanted to say
that he was important to us.
There’s only a gibber left
There’s a marble silence
answering mute questions
which we’re afraid to ask.
We thought we had so much time.

© W. Donovan

don’t, stop

Pain in every part of the body,
so sudden and violent, not possible to
bear. I want you to stop. I
could curl up with it. I could,
but I cannot move. I stand like
a statue in the middle of the
room and shout inaudible voice without opening
my mouth, I am crying without shedding
tears and lie standing. Pain like a
thousand needles pierces my mind and covers
my eyes. I hear my own scream
and I see flames through my eyelids.
I am like a ghost, devoid of
the body, but imprisoned in it forever.


© W. Donovan

Fiona’s dance

Like the fear of stars
and the glow of white
among the colors of emptiness.

Falling down with a slender beauty
towards the high sky
entangling without breath.

Encircling like a carousel
more scary with every move
the dizziness hits.

Choking with its own breath
woven into a spider’s web
bound by a painful stab.

Open in the abyss of colors
clenched in its soul
pulsing like a heart.

Feeling just cold
and echoing somewhere
they slam into the door.

Closed in its soul
clenched in the abyss of black
pressed in pulsing wilderness.

Left, only alone
in the circle of light
not reaching, blinded.

They don’t cause dizziness
now a colorless silence
left in the cool white.


© W. Donovan