Distance is only a matter of the imagination

Distance is only a matter of the imagination
we’re all standing here
but I’m not in the room

I’m hollow when you’re gone
I’m the most creative when I’m lonely
and in the throes of what slow death
must feel like

I remember standing before Him
my arms wrapped around the forgotten
we stared at each other
the darkness and me

In the headlights all was empty
and black and warm
and I thought  of love
in what could have been my final moments

I almost kissed Him in the rush of lights
my breath held, as I waited to embrace
the peace of the approaching void

Death will come to those who wait long enough
it was not my night, and in the rising
of that January sun I was too traumatised
to feel alive

Everyone is too far away
though we’re momentarily in the same room
my heart still beating, but ungrateful

Distance is only a matter of the imagination

© Indie Adams 2012