A Cat and a Vile of Poison - 01/12/11

The snow drifts
And settles
And melts.

All that wishing
And thinking
And hoping
And praying
And crossing my fingers
In more ways that I thought possible
Pulling
Ripping
Slipping
And then gripping the edge

That was it
That night
Months ago now
Long gone
A moth in a flame
Dead
But it still sticks
With me
Like the dead roses pinned to my wall
From my heart-shaped box
Pluck a spike from my heart.

It used to be filled
With memories,
Hopes, fears, dreams
Lies, pride, schemes
It used to be open
You used to know
But Schrödinger will show
Now that it’s closed
You can’t know

A tiny, tiny gesture
And the emotions,
The openness,
The sharing,
The magic of us,
Of the intimacy,
Of being close mentally,
Emotionally,
Every way,
Was lost to a tiny gesture
Surly not even meant
But preformed
And the box was closed

Dead and alive