Sunday, October 08, 2006

drained

it is nothing

but a burgeoning doubting

in my mind


but a question asked

in secret into

familiar valleys of a

drowned and comfortless pillow


but a tirade of rage

and bitter finger-pointing

to myself and no one,

almost no one, else


but an itch

i have scratched

too many times over

until a wound has formed


until an infection has spread across

the sinews and threads

of the suffocating why

that is my Calvary


silence.


only the silence

of feigned ignorance

and duty-bound forgiveness

can make it right.


only my silence.


it is nothing.