Already there is this hole
Where hopelessness hides
From the sunrise on the hill. Already
There is this heart that tightens
As lovers my own age pass me,
Hand in hand, walking up
The hill as I walk down it. Already
There are these eyes that narrow
In the time it takes to drive
Down the hill to town. And always
There is this hunger for some sustenance
Not known, not offered, not here. Always
This hunger that does nothing but grow.
I am told awareness is the cure,
That to be aware of it is to grow out of it,
But all that grows out of my awareness
Is the hunger itself, of which I am
More than aware. It growls in me as I pedal
Up the hill that separates where I live
From where I do not feel alive.
It moans in me when, alone,
I still feel apart from myself.
It sings in me as I dance it out,
And I wait as, bit by bit, it
Again begins to gnaw at me
After the music has ended
And I sit here, writing with and through it,
All through this blood moon night.