Dark, by Nicholas Ryan Sampson

Dark

I’ve kept my eyes

closed most of

these past eighteen years

because I find it

just as dark

when they’re open

(2014)

So much time passes without feeling a single thing that I think I would give anything

All that I know how to do is write about death without dying and write about life

I thought I could drink you away but I had to stop being so drunk on you first

I would write a sweet poem and title it with your name if I loved you at all

Everyday I visit the only writers block I know to hone my words and wit and help them cut deeper into the skin

I say hello and you say nothing You may hear me you may even think of a response

I know that you were there in my dreams and in my arms Every dream we

I write sharp words with a sharper knife on page after page of what might as well be the skin of my back

Everyday brings a new death in three words give or take Some days I drown

The road is long and winding like nothing you can imagine Too many off ramps to count but too few in hindsight

I awoke in the dark next to you and more alone than ever I was amazed to hear your heart beating from

Passion doesn’t arise from 12 point Times New Roman but rather from ink on one page and another

I spend my nights wishing on every star in the sky that you are alive and well

Everyday I lived out a song written just for you But you could

I have whispered your name into the air so many times it has become the breeze that blows