Calamity; You’re Not what I Wanted

I would love to tell you that it was all worth it.
Hiding beneath the good intentions and smiling
through the darkness and the pain; lost in darkness pit,
violins pierce darkness; lifting me up on angelic wing.

From across the room I can feel you watching, silently
judging with those cold jaded eyes. If I ever get back
to the place that I once was, not here so regretfully
crouched in the corner, emotion beginning to crack.

I swear to you I could have been a different person
but we both know that due to a toss of fate’s coin
it wasn’t going to end in any other distinct fashion.
Now it’s too late to tell each other who might have won.

If I lie awake for one more night, pretending you
can feel me needing you and desiring what we had known,
would it be a total lie? Turn the music up so loud it blew
right through the placental barrier of my headphones.

Even that won’t drown out the sound coming through the old
radio relegated to the attic of memory; voices of loves long gone.
Ghostly chains that rattle through the halls of memory untold
stir up the echoes of the love once shared but now done.

I can still see Danny’s face, smiling before he ate the gun,
and we both knew that was going to be the end of it for us
because as much as I loved you, he came between us, an evil pun
and we both knew that I wanted to take his place, without such fuss.

Now as we say our final goodbye, one final thing, a last request
nags on my mind, because I still have so much to say
there are things that need to be said. You always were best,
a love I could never conquer. You kept my demons at bay

and without your heart, such a fragile thing to wear on a sleeve
I now know that I would be the one, lying there, on display.
I have since come to know, I swear I have to believe
that you were the one who was destined to go away.

It is I who must stay here, endure this pain because you were pure,
too righteous for the guilt and shame that now rack my soul.
Not too much longer now, I’ll be coming home to you, will I through
these damned eyes see your shining spirit? Your entirety, your whole

beautiful being that could never be tainted by the blackness of mine?
Somehow I know that I have failed you. You were the one
holding back the pain, helping me forget the dangers, the crime
and the anxiety of love’s long virtue now come undone.

Life’s little book that you and I once shared, now set aflame
in agony, no longer the passion of our uncharacteristic youth
will be the only thing left that will ever be here to remain.
I know that it can’t rain all the time, but my quivering mouth

cannot begin to grasp waterfalls of tears streaming down my cheek.
I wish that they could see through my camouflage, and that this cage
has held me prisoner for far too long. I would run but I’m too weak
and now I realize that in order to survive I’ll have to give in to the rage,

hateful, raw emotion that used to course through every dirty kiss we
As the ground swallows you whole I say my final goodbye, once again
wishing that I could trade you places, but secretly knowing you fared
better than I ever could have. Once I thought I would do anything to

again with you, but you aren’t mine anymore, you belong to
     something else
never to be mine, to hold, to touch, to caress or care for again. What
      has built
up inside me is now the acidic drops of regret but that is my pain, for
or for better, you get to sleep the sleep…

© 2014 p.hill

Published by Patrik Hill

Patrik Hill is the author of Downtown Noir, as well as the essay and poetry collection entitled The Five Aces of Israel: reshuffled. A self-described adventure geek, he has traveled all over North America, Puerto Rico and the Cayman Islands, exploring mountain trails, back country lakes, jungle canopies, and ocean reefs. A certified SCUBA diver Patrik is as at home on land as he is beneath the water. Patrik often uses these experiences and people he meets to mold and shape the characters of his books. Patrik has a Bachelor’s Degree in Sociology from Montana State University emphasizing on Criminal Justice. He has worked as a draftsman, a restaurant manager, and a healthcare professional. Patrik currently lives in Bozeman, Montana, with his family, and is working on his next novels, Thru the Glass Darkly: Retribution, and Detective Stories After Dark. Starting as early as the age of eight years old, Patrik has been writing short stories and producing fiction in various lengths. Stories of mad scientists and mechanized robots led to narratives experienced throughout teen years and early adulthood. While in college at Bismarck State College, studying journalism, Patrik realized that corporate writing just wasn't his cup of tea, and while the experiences at BSC proved to be invaluable, serving to provided a foundation on which his current writing is based. He left BSC in 1999.

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