The World at Midnight

I let old ghosts come back to haunt me

to keep my world from feeling empty.

They tear at the scars of old wounds that just won’t heal,

yet somehow the ceaseless noise and presence

is more comfortable than the lonliness

and isolation their screams and tendrils drive away.

So let their spectral fingers tighten around the memories

and pull them out to freshen up

and set back at my feet to trip and torture yet again.

Because better are the familiar failures

than to go and find new ones to fall into my lap

That open flame has burned before

Yet here it comes again

That sacrificial self-destruction

Because maybe this time is the one

When I control the spreading blaze

Just look away

Remember how it went before

Those ashes hard to rise from

The scars from burns long left behind

The sparks that catch every so often

Don’t throw yourself into the path

Don’t be the food that ignites an inferno

Let it be fanned by someone else

It’s not yours to control

Fetch the sutures and the scissors

It’s time to patch this patient up

Ready, steady the hand that guides

and let us now take haste

But wait, just where does that connect?

Is this a bone meant to be broken?

What of all this spare muscle tissue?

Does this joint hang freely now?

Do I really know the way

this is meant to operate?

Did we get the consent forms

with dotted I’s and all that jazz?

Can I truly say that I know

better than the patient here?

Or am I flying blind again?

Physician, heal thyself He said

Maybe I just forgot to listen…

Old flames still burning

unbeknownst to the poor fool

just passing through

The flames dance and lick his skin,

carving new scars and channels

in amongst the ones they left before

that never healed quite right

About to fall apart once more

at the very sight of one

he never quite saw coming

How fitting to find himself

in ashes once again

as she burns so bright across the room

Drawn in before, never to return

and yet the pull is stronger

than the will it took to climb

back out of the hole she left him in

what seems so long ago

There’s nothing worse than knowing

exactly what to do

when to do it means to

give up something

you dreamed of for so long

but the dream was never really yours

and for some time you’ve suffered

not wanting to admit

that it was never meant to be

To sever even the smallest string

that ties two souls together

and cast away the feeling

that once made you whole again

but now only brings anxiety

and sadness for what might have been

The time to leave it all behind

has long since come and gone,

and there was never anything

worth the price you keep on paying

Caught up in illusion

unwilling to see through it all

to realize you made yourself

into the laughing stock

It’s time to cut the cord

before you strangle yourself with it.

She’s long since washed her hands of it,

why can’t you do the same?

I’m starting to think it’s beyond me completely

to get past what went wrong

The sight sends me scurrying in every direction,

unable to face down the impending failure

Better to keep sticking my head in the sand,

clinging so tightly to desperate fantasy

than to meet with the knowing that nothing’s the same

I’ve held on so long to the embers of failure

that my hands are nothing but ash and bone,

and yet I can’t seem to let it all go

Instead I force it inside me so deeply,

left there to burn me when I come across

the smallest reminder of you

I used to fall in love

with every face that smiled back.

Well, I still do, but I used to, too,

to steal from a dead comedian.

The real joke is cleaning up the mess

each time I try to give my heart

to those smiling faces.

I watch it hit the floor again,

pick it up and clean it off.

The bruises are adding up,

and was there always a black line there?

No matter, there’ll always be another smiling face,

a face to be wary of.

Smiles cover everything.

Smiles lie.

Smiles are an invitation

to a mystery likely better left unsolved.

And next time she smiles back,

I hope I’ve learned my lesson,

but I’ll probably just have to stop

and pick up my poor heart again.

I’m just clumsy that way.

Be careful when you open up your heart

Blood is such a messy thing

It flows everywhere you let it

Into all the nooks and crannies it can find

And leaves behind so many stains and memories

All the cracks and all the scars

Bleeding yourself for someone else

Someone that can’t or won’t appreciate

The sacrifice you’ve made

Don’t set fire to yourself

Just to fan someone else’s flames

Or you’ll find yourself with nothing left

But ashes

Another night, another dream

Reaching out for something

that I’ve never really known

Empty-handed, something’s missing

Something strong and overwhelming

out there somewhere in the darkness

Something I can’t describe

And here I am, buried under fantasies

of what might have been

in another lifetime far away

So far beneath the light of day

the surface seems so lost

My mind made mountains out of naught

but tiny grains of sand that slip through fingers

and yet weigh heavy on my soul

Memories, illusions, ephemeral reminders

of what I thought could be but never was

that creep up every now and then

to grab me by the shoulders

and make certain that I can’t break frre

So here I sleep, alone again

shut tight sway from everything

Dreading what the night brings forth

to haunt my humbled, harried head

Pray I wake one morning

to the light, so safe, so true

that I might use to burn away

these shadows that still hold on

I looked right through a ghost today

I’d like to think she doesn’t haunt me

But that’s a lie I tell myself

Judging by the way I’m feeling

Knowing that I passed right by

And all the baggage that used to be

Keeps piling right back on my mind

The love I used to hold so close

The bitter anger that developed

The apathy I wrapped around me

The painful lack of understanding

That broken soul once left these here

I fought so long to shake them off

And now with just a moment’s gkanxey

I find them crushing me anew

I hope the spirit’s sleeping well

With all the anguish that she’s brought me

May she never know the trutb

Of just how much she got to me

The place she’ll likely always hold

A nightmare I played part in making