While the lovely night takes its stroll…
The stars dance to an unheard song…
The moon caresses our splendid earth…
Your very scent lingers on.
The arrant weight of my woes, my being…
Into magical feathers, they, I, sink ever so deeper.
Incessant fluttering takes place behind the windows to my soul.
Losing sense of time~ forgetting the Reaper.
The windows forcefully open, all is silent.
Only a heaviness, and your scent, thick in the night air.
Startled, an eeriness sets comfortably in.
Your weight settled, so absolute, so close, so near.
Peering into the darkness, down what seemed like miles.
I perceive the heaviness of you, sitting with me.
My eyes sear into the felt indention. Into your presence…
Could it truly be? As you promised me? Haunting me.
© bipolarmuse 2012
** This poem is about a very real experience I had back in 2003, one year after the suicide of my Ex. I was laying in bed, had just rested my head upon my pillow and begun to “drift” into sleep, when all of a sudden it felt like somebody sat at the very end of my bed. The feeling jolted me and I sat paralyzed for several moments, in fear of what I was going to see. Was there someone in my room? Why would they sit on my bed? I finally get the courage to look down at the end of my bed and I see nothing, only what “seems” like the indention of a person sitting on the end of the bed. Of coarse, moonbeams shining into my room could have been playing tricks on my eyes, but I felt like it could have been him. His favorite cologne filled the air, and I just felt like he could have been sitting there with me.
He had always promised to haunt me. **