Words Left Unarticulated

Words Left Unarticulated

They say that only God can save me now
only God, if he is willing
but, my God, my head is spinning
as the Dark falls back around the light

the speed of light is not the fastest one on Earth
it will never vanquish all the night
because my shadows fight back far too fierce
and Light lives with inadequate assumptions
for Dark will always be there first
to countermand the Light’s compulsions

I almost can’t remember how the salt dissolves upon my tongue
when licked and taken from your skin
as we played among the shades of night
to the sunbeam’s ultimate chagrin

you say that only God can save my soul
and that a lake of fire burns
you ask me what is wrong and assume I’ve turned my back
as a dog, to its own vomit, returns
I’m tired of this game
and I hate your damned pretentions
you know nothing and assume you know it all
I’ve had enough of guilt and pressure
and of your superior condescensions

you ask again because the only thing you care about
is not my happiness or welfare
or the normal tasks, day in and out
you don’t come to me for simple conversation
or for friendship nor commiseration
you only speak up when you see my faults
it’s the only aspect that interests you
the only part of me that’s worth your time
as if we’re not both classified as adults

I look at you and see the past
and see the person I once grew to be
as the words you want to hear come from my lips
and my skill at card games grows exponentially
maybe if you really cared, or at least pretended that you could
I’d feel more inclined to trust you
and I might feel more the way I should