UNSHAKEN NIGHTS

 

Unshaken Nights                 2003

Sleeplessness Spared

No narcoleptic haze clouds my days,

no insomnia carves restless grooves

into the fabric of my nights.

Sleep comes steady,

a river unbroken by jagged stones—

no tossing, no turning,

no shadows of your absence

to jolt me awake.

The dark wraps me gentle,

a blanket unmarred

by the ghosts of missed calls

or the echo of your retreating steps.

A Mind Alive

My brainstem hums,

a quiet engine firing bright—

no stutter from neglect,

no dimming from the silence

of a phone left cold.

Your company’s extraction

leaves no void to fill,

no wound to nurse.

Thoughts spin free,

unburdened by the weight

of your voice’s absence—

a mind unshackled,

dancing through the hours

without a backward glance.

Before Your Time

Amusement flickered in my bones

long before your shadow crossed my path,

gregariousness bloomed

in the marrow of my days

ions before your cradle rocked.

Laughter rang through rooms

you never knew,

conversations sparked

under skies you’d never see—

a world rich and loud,

built on foundations

that predate your breath,

thriving still

in the wake of your departure.

The Ledger of Loss

The tallies of what’s gone

stack high on your shoulders—

a burden you carved,

a weight you chose.

Not mine to bear,

these losses pile like stones,

each one a mark

of what you’ll miss.

No sleepless nights for me,

no hollow ache—

it’s you who’ll carry

the quiet cost,

the absence

of what I once offered

and you let slip away.

What You’ll Lack

You’ll be without pink roses now,

their petals soft as dawn,

stripped of their just-because cards—

those scribbled notes,

impulse woven into ink,

that once fluttered to your door.

The ideas that spill from my tongue,

wild and unbidden,

will fall to other ears—

visions of worlds

painted in reckless hues,

dreams spun from a voice

you’ll no longer catch.

The garden of my giving

withers in your shadow,

its blooms reserved

for soil you’ll never tread.

A Horizon Unshared

I walk on,

nights unbroken,

days brimming with a pulse

that needs no echo of you.

The roses fade from your grasp,

the cards yellow in memory,

and my words drift

to skies beyond your reach.

You’ll feel the lack,

a hollow growing

where my presence once stood—

while I sleep sound,

untouched by regret,

building new chapters

on a slate