Tonight is for writing

But I will not write of myself

 

I will write of the wind, instead

With its frigid breath, that left me

Gasping into my hands

 

I will write of the formidable sky

Neither blue nor gray,

Neither alive nor dead

 

I will write of dreams

Elusive like smoke, hope vibrating

In my chest

 

I will write of love, love

Scars the flesh, the fire became

Too much

 

I will write of sadness, welling up

Like an ocean, spilling over

Leaving me hollow with wanting

 

I will write of fear, rolling in my belly

Bile in my throat, acid in my veins

I am frozen, fearing the unknown

 

I  will write of nothing,

Nothing I have written matters.

The sun will set, and rise

Again