Untitled - July 26, 2001
Even as the breath
exits the body,
there is a cloak
of numbness
that descends
and muffles
the silent howls
left
unuttered.
Like rough leather worn -
it hides away
everything
that might have been
seen.
There is a slow measure -
as the pulse runs silently -
each moment
becoming
eternity.
Slowly at first,
until there is
a steady stream
of movement.
Isn't it ironic,
that the only thing felt
was the numbness
and then the pain.
I have forgotten
what
joy
is.
(
geocities.com/pdt_bear)