Where Silver Tears Do Rust
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The Many, The Few...2003
Here I am again.
My pen in my hand and you on my mind.
You are the many and the few.
The many that have drank from the longing, the hunger in my eyes.
The few that have tasted the sweet nectar of my flesh.
Now, alone, but for my pen and paper, my tears flow freely.
"One more night" plays loudly on my radio.
Over and over again those lyrics are played.
I play them loudly and those words help to drown out my need to call upon you.
I stare at the phone that waits patiently; sitting on the lace adorned dresser at my bedside.
Breathing deeply and sighing in quiet whispers, I cry out for you.
You, the many.
You, the few.
You, who I've not yet met.
The sun is sinking beneath the horizon.
The nights are becoming chilly.
I gather my blankets to attempt, in vain, to warm my flesh.
I cradle my many pillows and whisper quietly.
I call upon my angels to save me from myself.
I gaze into the mirror that is framed by familiar faces and face myself.
A woman; bent, bruised and hungry.
You the many; you the few, could have fed my spirit, my heart, my flesh.
I fed you.
I fed your heart.
I fed your spirit.
I fed your flesh.
I now stand before myself, empty.
I stand before myself, hungry.
I plead with the memory of you; that you will return to me in my minutes, hours and days of need.
Alas, the fantasy of you shall be the demise of me.
I want not for tomorrow.
Instead I drown in the tears of my memories of yesterday.
Another day passes by me and here I am again.
My pen in my hand;
And you on my mind.
You who are the many and the few.
The many that have drank from the hunger and longing in my eyes.
The few that have drank from the nectar of my flesh.
I stare at the phone that waits patiently, sitting upon the lace adorned dresser at my bedside.
Breathing deeply and sighing in quiet whispers,
I cry out for you.You the many.
You the few...
L.A.Mc Nabb
Monday, 08 September, 2003
Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved
My pen in my hand and you on my mind.
You are the many and the few.
The many that have drank from the longing, the hunger in my eyes.
The few that have tasted the sweet nectar of my flesh.
Now, alone, but for my pen and paper, my tears flow freely.
"One more night" plays loudly on my radio.
Over and over again those lyrics are played.
I play them loudly and those words help to drown out my need to call upon you.
I stare at the phone that waits patiently; sitting on the lace adorned dresser at my bedside.
Breathing deeply and sighing in quiet whispers, I cry out for you.
You, the many.
You, the few.
You, who I've not yet met.
The sun is sinking beneath the horizon.
The nights are becoming chilly.
I gather my blankets to attempt, in vain, to warm my flesh.
I cradle my many pillows and whisper quietly.
I call upon my angels to save me from myself.
I gaze into the mirror that is framed by familiar faces and face myself.
A woman; bent, bruised and hungry.
You the many; you the few, could have fed my spirit, my heart, my flesh.
I fed you.
I fed your heart.
I fed your spirit.
I fed your flesh.
I now stand before myself, empty.
I stand before myself, hungry.
I plead with the memory of you; that you will return to me in my minutes, hours and days of need.
Alas, the fantasy of you shall be the demise of me.
I want not for tomorrow.
Instead I drown in the tears of my memories of yesterday.
Another day passes by me and here I am again.
My pen in my hand;
And you on my mind.
You who are the many and the few.
The many that have drank from the hunger and longing in my eyes.
The few that have drank from the nectar of my flesh.
I stare at the phone that waits patiently, sitting upon the lace adorned dresser at my bedside.
Breathing deeply and sighing in quiet whispers,
I cry out for you.You the many.
You the few...
L.A.Mc Nabb
Monday, 08 September, 2003
Copyright © 2004 Lori Ann McNabb, All Rights Reserved
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The Many, The Few...2003
The Many, The Few...2003