I have searched for comfort,
Dark corners and dirty sheets –
Secret places have left me eluded,
My eyes have glued shut
And still I am lost in the darkness
A black wound incapable of clotting.
Staccato moments
Moving like phantom fingers
Across the keys of a morbid piano –
A tune that stretches the lips
Far too tightly against my teeth
A wretched smirk
no amount of humor can remove.

I have longed to be forgiven,
My pockets filled with regret –
Yet my voice remains dusty with time,
Unspoken apologies
Long overdue
Worthless to those that needed them.
I often think of unspeakable things
With hopes to be released
To be rewarded my prize –
Peace within and without
To channel the ghosts that haunt me
Cold uncaring spirits
That flicker through my dreams.

I have loved,
My heart has ached with joy –
And burned with lust,
My nights have embraced passion
Enfolded until dawn
With promises made and exchanged.
It fuels me
Fire incentive that touches my soul
Hot coals coaxing me forward –
Burning away pain
Warming away the frigid past
An inner light ever shining
That always guides me home.

– Eric William Hinton
– 10/1/2004

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Poetry and writings