Some Nights

Some nights stand still just at the
brink of dawn,
Nights that ride in the wind and
knock down all your doors,
They bag you up, blindfolded and
bound,
Into a sack stinking of your
weaknesses
And laced with your own personal
kryptonite
Then you go for a ride.

On such a night,
Up on the lonely, steep slopes of a
hill,
With a magnificent view of city
lights,
I met a man.
A stranger in the night, with a
smoke and a bottle
He gazed past the magnificent, lost
While I sat in the silence and raised
my own for a quiet toast
To our mutual misery that thrived on
company,
But he would have none of that,
So I turned my bottle into a mirror
of sorts,
The reflections of my life gleaming
off its surface

When he spoke at last,
His speech was slurred
Nevertheless, his words slithered out
in a venomous spite,
He cursed everything that could claim
life
From the drops of water that kept
the sand alive in beaches
To the city lights, glowing like they
breathed
But when, in the split of a stopped
second that I caught his gaze,
No fires burned inside his eyes
Instead a cot of grey glass that held
back an ocean
That seemed to be drowning him from
inside
I would brave the cold alone later
that night
Wondering whether it was simply
myself I was seeing in there

When I told him what I was running
away from,
Myself,
He let out a sharp sarcastic chuckle
that pierced the already torn
fragments of my spirit
He said,
“You, mate, are your own best
friend.
Embrace the beast inside of you,
Love him and feed his wicked desires.
Then, maybe, just maybe
You will be able to survive the shit
storm that’s coming your way.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s