Best Poems Written by Kristiana Dayrit

Him

The moon shines bright.
So bright. Brighter.
The moon is my sunlight.

A golden light starts to shine as as my sun disappears.
The warmth comforts me, yet I run away.
Running.
Hiding.

This room.
Windows don't exist.
This is my sanctuary.
My home.
It's safe.
I sleep.
I dream.
I dream of my past.
My past tries to exist.
But does it exist at all?

I try to remember.
My past...
Where is my past?

Him. It's him.
He is my Beloved.
He is my past.
He stands in the dark.
He waits.
Me.
He waits for me.
He waits in the dark.

I want to be with my Beloved.
My Beloved...
Where has he gone?
I stand where he stood.
The trees cast shadows.
I have no shadow.
My Beloved stands where my silhouette should stand.
Because he is my past.

I get one last look.
One last look at the beautiful, pale face as it gets closer.
Closer.
Closer.

Red.
I no longer see my Beloved.
Just red.
A dream.
My past was just a dream.

My eyes open to see my pitch black sanctuary.
And as I gaze at the lone mirror.
I see my Beloved. My past.
The two red spots on my neck.
My Beloved.
My Past.

Copyright © Kristiana Dayrit | Year Posted 2007