FEAR becomes my river
it flows into me
as the tides pull
my spirit away;
it is mine forevermore,
and i’ll never let it go
i kissed the mask
of a familiar thought
that worships hearts
all the hope so heaven-high,
like me, so unfulfilled in you.
and i say, “i am the river
of gold where hopes and fear die–
and you reach out your slender hand
but i cannot slay your demons
so they remain just for you to kill
and what i am is not what you wish
and what you need is a sweet friend
who can never go away in the end
i am the white knuckled one
who has lost everything — there’s
no more for me to give
a voice by bamboo stilts, and stains
by time, as small people, without
dislike or suspicion
and everyone i know is a ghost
i gave my heart to the dead
her name, Emily E. Dickinson
how can i ever let her down
since she knows more
across the other-side
:: 07-25-2015 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 