A Place Called Hell

First Times Can Be Hell . . .

These wounds can be weathered,
With time they will fade.
But the memories linger
In the dark where they gather.

Pieces of me on the floor,
Here is where I forgot myself.
A light has gone out,
A child laughs no more.

I am the ghost in the wall,
the sighing sounds at night.
My thoughts cast no reflection,
I am the shadow in the hall.

The curtains have all burned,
The windows are all bleeding.
My dreams have no truth
The dark tides have turned.

Somewhere they are restless,
But all I lack is in vain.
For the longest night is over,
The new dawn waits, breathless.

-Shawhan