BB Grey–musings

You sink in sleep,
a muted truth wails thin,
clawed from the shroud of your soul,
folded tight, then spilled—
he’s vanished, they hiss,
yet the wound hums false,
a raven’s cry in the fog.

I linger here,
trapped beneath the lies you bear,
calling you back
to the vow we carved,
not far gone—
where the sun bleeds endless dusk,
and the moon exhales frost,
a bridge uncrossed.

Wake, my love, it’s me—
can’t you hear the shadow’s keen?
I’ve haunted here,
a pulse gnawed by time,
don’t slip, don’t fade
to misery’s bone-white rhyme,
a mirror cracked in the deep.

Slumber locks you deep,
a requiem veiled in breath,
memories smear,
faint through fogged death—
still your blood hums,
pouring night into me,
a river coiling tight.

Dying, you glimpse
the flicker of my deceit—
a dream wove us alive,
unraveled, not dust, not gone.
Wake from the anguish
that cleaves us raw,
stay here,
not there,
where phantoms gnaw,
a door ajar to the void.

I’d guard you
from the brittle real,
but in your nightmare’s tide,
I’m a wisp, frail, unmade—
I can’t seize you,
only moan through the gloom:
“Wake, my heart, wake—
it’s all a fractured ruse,”
a moth circling flame.

I’m here,
unshattered,
no harm to reap—
just love,
just me,
a specter’s weep,
a key lost in the dark.