The Night Comes Crawling by John Tustin

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.