Poem - dream-killer

A poem from my 2003 journal:

i am not a dreamer

i am a dream-killer

that is what this blood is, upon these pages

me, trying to exorcise things from my chest

that cause me pain, dreams that

are breaking my heart, things

i no longer believe in.

i have been

completely unable

to inspire vulnerability.

i walk openly

among the wraiths and men

alone.

i am afraid this dream shall never live

shall gestate tremblingly, over my life

and be still born at my death.

i am afraid i do not hold

the keys to my own deliverance.

i wake and walk among you

with doves and stranger birds

beating at the cage

that is my chest

i wake and walk among you

with the smell

of dreams rotting

in my nostrils.

i am a greenhouse

full of dying orchids

i am sorry you were planted here, lovely ones

i do not know why, you do not know why

we know only

each other’s pain

i cannot ease yours

i am crippled

and the world is indifferent

so let us sit here

weeping to the music

let the fears become as blood

at least, at the end

we have each other

to haunt the streets

so try not

to beat your wings

so fiercely;

you break

my heart

i am sorry

the splinters

stick

in your breast

my loves,

i can taste

your blood.