It's Late

It’s late 

And all I think of is you 

there is no touching you, 

      there is no you being here...

alone .

      in the darkness 

tears .

         running down my face 

 here .

       me myself and I 

dreams.

      reflections on glass

                       shimmering glow. 

           Infusing my tears, 

                    causing them to dance. 

I see you here,

      separated by the glass

And with no remorse, 

                 no second thought

Moonlight streams through 

   teasing my dazed state of being

Reminding me of choice 

reminding me to keep open 

   the curtains of my heart.

Prompting me outside, 

To feel the breeze

     To touch my skin.

To know yes,

 betrayal has come 

                      and gone. 

 To let go of pains snare 

and in its place a newfound strength. 

Perhaps this glass gave me you 

And by you, 

           I really mean me. 

Perhaps this glass 

          that can cut so deeply,

Can also hold warmth, 

 joy and new beginnings. 

It’s late 

 and all I think of is you

 and by you, 

          I now know me. 

~ FireBird

It's Late © 2024 by FireBird is licensed under CC BY-ND 4.0

Photo by Eric Torres