Benjamin Radcliff

Rookie (4/16/1985 / Lexington, Kentucky)

Morning Comes Around, Morning Gone Around - Poem by Benjamin Radcliff

naked
i am sitting at the foot of the bed
judging by the amount of light
striking the floor between my feet
i have no idea what time it is
the clock ticks steadily
with the heartbeat pounding the front of my skull
all i really want is to go back
to bed, back to her warm smooth soft body
she is keeping my spot warm for me
but the promise of a new day
a fresh start sounds comforting
a chance for redemption
i can always come back
to my spot in my bed next to whomever

and as i sit there trying not to decide
i think how much i want a girl (not this girl)
i can give myself to
a person i can share the most intimate pieces of me with (not just a bed)
how afraid i am that i will never find her
leaving me sitting here at the foot of my bed
stroking the legs of some girl
who seems to like like waking up in my bed more than me
while the loneliness and emptiness
all the memories of the things i did
the things i said and the things i wanted
fight off the remnants of the mind numbing drinks
in a painful barrage and never ending barrage of explosions

i wrap my robe around my nakedness
my mind is set for the moment on eggs and coffee
as i eat my eggs and drink my coffee
the quiet of the morning seeps into my head
i am left wondering, thinking of her
is she just as scared of this world as i am?
does she need me like i need her?
and does every morning come just as empty and painful?
every time she touches me - so reassuring
it tears a hole deep in the fabric of my soul
and every time i use her as a band aid
it is turpentine on the open wound
why does she stay here in my bed?
waiting to be my quick fix, waiting for her quick fix

so long this story was a repeat
skipping over and over
my dreams were big
flying; a superman to end all
but i want more...
i dream of sailing past the end of the world
walking on the lush lands on the other side of the rising sun
i dream of being finished: complete
no longer a work in progress: a broken soul
but a reconciled, whole being
i dream of finding the pieces that fill the holes in my soul
of reclaiming the pieces of me i gave away on so many nights
and so many mornings
i dream of being the places i belong
of being the man set on my soul


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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 28, 2008



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