christian-schloe-94There’s a look in her eye
it says I am strong and I do not know
yet how deep this goes
to join with protective arm in the moist earth those who stand before and after
except there will be no after
my child lies sleeping eternal sleep, my womb will no more facsimile
it ends with me
I stand alone when you pass and I remain when you are gone
It is the sorrow you always saw in my eyes
I knew
the price of freedom is to be alone at the last hurdle
a strange familiar pain, turned to in twisted recognition
strength usually accompanied numbers, other families look on
you can hear them with their dismay
she is the poor one who inherits isolation
and what I have learned, is the truth of this and the lie
you may share a name, a legacy, a generation or a string around your finger
and still within you
nobody
nobody thinks to inquire in a room-full of noise
you may be speaking loudly, no-one will listen
captivated by their carousel of cacophony
so when you said I was formed of my choices
you were right
and what you missed, was your own price
for we all believe ourselves immortal to obscurity
it is my fate to understand this
it is your torment to chase
the dragon you seek and avoid
he will never let you catch him
you will never discover why
the borderlands of your mind
make enemies of love so well