The Dream That Never Was

you pushed me
with a hard arm
and I remembered
what it's like
to be alone

you immersed me
in people
and I remembered
what it's like
to have none

they spoke to me
through faces
turned away
and I remembered
no trust

I lay in bed
thinking
of plan and rescue
of being afraid
in the night

of your years
and of coldness
and how easy
the suitcase
deft in the hall

I looked down the well
of the future
all the water gone
deep and dark
and the part left

I play empty
and thirsty
with little heart
for the road
for my daily bread

and all false smiles and whispers
how it catches
on hooks and raw
flesh - the
handle turns

and the spit drops
fat into the fire
I stare
at it, watch
the meat melt

I know too much
and it gives me
glasses black-tinted
I remember
affray and causes

so in the next new day
I must draw-in
draw wise
remember the dream
that never was

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