What a Strange Pain
What a strange pain this is
When the cause and the cure are one, and both are locked in a bottle
Just out of reach, set by choices not mine
And I feel incarcerated by circumstance, while the keys to my soul’s freedom
Are held tight by the jailer of time
Feeling short in my hand, I sit at this table of love
The dealer is my own fear, and the rules are crystal clear:
All bets are off, when held hostage by a frightened heart
What a strange game this is
When the hours seem to drag on like wounded animals
And the dull ache starts up again
And though I long to cry, to scream, to reach out with whatever arms are left me
But alas, the turn is not mine, and the chessboard demands my silence
Lest I become checkmated by own desire
And with that last sudden move, as the queen glides back to her solitary defense
I am again thrust into this corner
With my heart in a draw, no advance allowed, yet no retreat in sight
So I sit, through another night
What a strange pain this is
I would almost choose the car bomb of heartbreak, with its explosive agony
Or the slow decay of mediocrity and plastic smiles
Then this maddening silence, where every doubt and fear echoes like thunder in my rib cage
And my pawns are frozen on their squares, obeying the request of a hidden queen
What a strange pain
(2013)
