The night comes crawling toward me Baring fangs, snarling in secret The night brings out sharpened fingers The night cracks broken staircases I sit alone in the one chair My eyes burnt My lips trembling My body hurt From misremembering I can’t bring myself to retreat to the bed Because that’s where I used to meet you On the evenings The fanged night Could not penetrate the window And here I am stuck Between the loneliness And the memories That have shriveled blackened Decomposed In my diseased tiny Frazzled Fisted Heart The night rides in On wind Lightning and rain And she waits for me To tell her That you have died within my heart She waits for me To slay the night She waits for me To meet her At the diner Leaving you and the night Back outside The window Where you both belong
About the Poet:
John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.
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Doesn’t the lightening illuminate the dark nights?!