Not Here

My hands are cold  
unfeeling with frostbite of the soul  
clenched against my chest again  
with crescents of blood where nails used to be  
 
Don’t take my palms and try to read the scars  
they’re all lies from another life  
where loneliness wasn’t ground-inducing  
and the floor wasn’t covered with tears  
 
I’m a shadow of someone  
that could be loved  
if only I could look you in the eye  
instead of dead-gazing the horizon  
 
Because dreams are best left for sleeping  
and hope is just one more thing  
the Gods have come to take away;  
my entrails signing the sidewalk  
that I was never here  
 
© Indie Adams 2014