Our Midden*

You caught me with the tears running down my cheek

And though I tried to blame the cold

My tongue froze up

My words grew old

And I found that I could hardly speak


A bitter wind had chilled my hands

And poured itself across my chest

Despite the night

Its warm delight

I felt a deep unsettling rest

And found no ground on which to stand


The sweeter half dissolved into a bitter shout

Echoing across the streets

Above our heads

Where darkness meets

The fragmenting light the stars above pour out


Methodically you turn to change the scene

With customary scientific calculation

A glance behind

Serves to remind

Me of the average apathetic un-appreciation

That’s turned this little rift into a great ravine


We swagger - sweltered, seemingly unscathed -

But we’re aware of the lies we share

And every single word unsaid

Has burned its mark into my head

The winter sounds of hatred have now our hearts be-swathed


If for redemption we each do long

I see no sight to give me hope

As a moth drawn to the flame

I burn and pine to speak your name

Burnt is the ladder, gone the rope

And all the music gone out of our song


So with Defeat our married name

To relegate us to our shame

We tried our hands at this murd’rous game

This love which none yet can claim

For a heart that’s full is a heart that’s tame

Not battered, broken, bruised, and lame

And though we are, at least we’re the same


The loneliness

Is always less

If you’ve another the share the mess


And so, we shall let it be

“The end, the end,”

We make our plea,

And we shall have it verily,

We shall see, we shall see.










*Midden: from the Scandinavian term for a pile of remains, as in animal bones, refuse, waste, and human byproducts which no longer serve a valuable purpose.


Guide that inspired this poem: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741