Untitled

a mind that swirls like a whirlpool of rain.
amused by my inability to write in joy.
bemused by my words in pain.
addicted to this empty place.
a place that fixates on the past.
a past that never taught me love.
so where did i learn love?
how do i know love?
its taste sits sweet on my tongue.
its smell perfumes the wind around me.
its light illuminates the dark corners.
but blow gently, the light is out.
the warmth of my breath now turns cold.
haunted by memories.
always haunted.
wanting a different life.
a different youth.
a different now.
somebody see me.
not for the parade.
not for what is clear.
i am not glass.