I am always afraid to remain still
for I know this is where sadness
will find me, there, in that place
where shadows turn rain to moss.
But today I am tired, and indolence
reigns over my sapped resolution
and no longer do I outrun sadness.
I hear her footsteps quicken, they
echo in the hollowness of my heart
like gunfire upon a corrugated iron
roof and I am caught surrendered.
“Hello, old friend,” I say to her, and
she is weight and mass and density
and I pull her compression beneath
my skin and I am comforted by the
feeling of my bones being crushed.
“Welcome home,” I say to her, for
sadness and I are clandestine lovers,
souls of the night who run together
beneath canopies of faded dreams,
and she knows no matter how often
she leaves, I will always call her back,
and beg once more for her darkness
to come closer and embrace mine.
~ © Kathy Parker ~