The Mocking

Blind to reality,
That’s when life plays tricks,
You think things have changed,
Only to realise they’re actually the same;
It’s too late now,
A forward movement has blocked
A path that seemed barred,
But was only hidden;
Now the feelings of all
Are thrown carelessly into the air,
While I sit and watch them fall,
Trying to choose whose to catch
And whose to let smash;
Time was long spent
Searching for the thing
To help me forget,
But when I found it,
I just wanted to remember again;
Now I stand at a crossroads,
The choice seems to mock me,
Go down a road that’s a certain dead end,
Or go down a familiar path
That may not be open to me,
What do I do?

I sleep and dream of a place
Where things might actually go back to how they were,
I walk into this imagined place,
And there she stands, centre of it all,
Enticing me with her beckoning finger
And her shining eyes;
I get to the centre, to where everyone’s gaze
Is attentively and unwaveringly fixed;
We smile at each other and our eyes close,
The kiss I’ve been longing for is so close now
I can almost taste it;
Yet, just as I wait for our lips to press passionately,
I feel her vanish from my grasp,
I re-open my eyes and am horrified at her disappearance;
I look around, gripped by panic,
This is not how dreams are meant to be,
The room filled to capacity, with faces towering over me, either side,
Is a wall of noise, of jeers and manic laughter;
One by one, recognisable faces appear in the wall,
The faces of those I thought were close to my heart,
And then, I see her face, laughing at me,
Joining in the mocking of my weakness,
Whilst shouting down at me,
‘You’ll never touch these lips again.’