September 9, 2013

Before


My eyes
once paced
back and forth
in silent dreams, 
trapped 
behind their lids,
always searching.

Now I walk 
from room
to room, 
exposed;
your scar cannot 
just be filled,
sanded smooth,
painted over.

Whoever moves in
will feel my presence,
wonder if I've really gone,
read my unknown name 
on mail, ask
why it was 
not delivered
before.

9/4/2013