It’s still too dark in here

I don't need to be desired,

nor do I seek admiring eyes;

I walk with purpose, with dignity,

as if every step is a promise

to something good – an endorsement

for a life well-preserved.   

But this path is a cruel circle;

There are no forks to ponder

or bridges to cross.

I’d never been nearer to a dream

yet felt so far from feeling elation.  

The only constant in my gut 

is the pool of angst standing silent,

steady, stagnant, and stubborn.  

It's still too dark in here.

I carry a hollow heart,

an insatiable longing.

And like an empty cave,

my core echoes, my body raw

with need for warmth –

broad shoulders and gentle arms –.

I was loved, once; but 

he stifled me out of  my own life.  

Perhaps that was not love.

© 2013 Helena Malheur