The Approach of Hallows Eve

I feel grief like fingernails scratching their way past my lungs

Wanting me to want, to picture, insert a face of wanting different than the nothingness

I feel the silent penitent stance, the meditative plank

Like a military readiness to stave the submission to the lethargy

Halloween approaching like a cackle wind

Blowing knowing how the playful will adorn fetishist robes

My gut wishes to dawn the masks and have skin to romp with the night

Feeling the blankness like glue sticking me into this apathy

That absent love’s bind to the universal no face resonates

No parlor tricks entertain the walk and the numb will ring the bells of Notre Dame

I will feel the defeat of a thousand years echoing back

Struggling to dare out there alone for another night, another night

To a fervent concert bar pounding music as if I were alive

Pretending the nourishment was sustainable to turn and here the woman is from Atlanta

Even then the decline for the hours present; the messages like pigeons shot in flight

The rockets that fall right out the sky

Her like the only answer flaring in the approaching haunted eve

The pulse to write everything my soul could muster in the ignominy of swallowing shame

In lakes of acreage surrendered, what have me do for you love?

I build and I know this is not your dwelling and I walk on in surrender to your whim

Stave the grief, stave the pain, and I pray it be her will genuine as a human volition

Desires that the life I describe is that which she has prayed exist from so deep within

Like Alice waking from wonderland realizing the present was ever better than her dreams