BROKEN

By some miracle I still live,

breathe, and my heart beats out

it's crazy tattoo into the silence

of the midnight street. No

living soul is here to see

my bloody, gaping wound

that reeks of love's battlefield;

or the guts that hang out,

mangled and totally screwed up

by a renegade amoroso.

Never. For my agony

is well concealed by the darkness

and it's dreamlike distortion

of sidewalk and shuttered terrace -

all of which in daylight mocked

the enormity of my fractured world

by their complacent ordinariness:

everything is not alright!

Don't they know I'm inwardly dying

from a mortally injured heart?

Even as my shattered trust

silently screams out it's hurt

into the deserted ether,

so, perhaps, this dreadful void

you've left me in

will in time become the impetus

to grow past you and put aside

my broken dreams

so that, more foolish than any clown,

I can dare to love again.