wounds which may never heal

passion in abundance
but lacking in common sense.
it'll be me.
the blood spilled by my feet was my type
my pain vivid, intense,
unnecessary, perhaps
unwanted, i knew
undeserved, i felt,
and at such a time
that the shock was stunning, awesome,
simple and complete.
how can one love without undefended vulnerability?
someone must have once made the comment
that perhaps the pain of loss
exceeds the rapture of togetherness.
maybe i said it.
from the parking lot,
i once remarked
"See you around!"
she replied,
"We must communicate!"
how easy it should have been in retrospect to keep
emotions in check,
entanglements at arms length,
maintaining that critical distance,
the detachment,
a cool reserve,
a preserving space,
while still having her
in an impersonal fashion.
oh, nostalgia!
i so wanted to trust someone,
to have help with every door,
to allow,
to risk everything for.
look, i heard
you and i wanted
a meaningful connection,
an honest embrace,
a fundamental relationship
without pretense or phoniness
no holding in reserve
and i gave you my word:
no secret part of myself
would be hidden
and i willingly gave to you
and flew
at every altitude
free-falling
walking on air
and always there
feeling that special breeze
which can only appear with abandonment
a ghost and a solid thing once and for all
steady
continual
and most certainly
vital and alive.
we saw things most clearly.
now am i the fool?
i am on the verge of closing myself down and
tending to wounds which may
never heal.
where now is the knock-out rose?
only the arborist knows.
the hand-formed candle resting on my glass coffee table
is in danger of losing its' dancing flame.
the fireplace has grown cold.
oh, perhaps the gas cylinder is empty again?
the nearby wall of glass no longer holds a view
of the near shore.
what is all this for?
the shore itself has disappeared.
that's what i feared.
the creek no longer flows.
someone else one said
"And so it goes."
even the simple flowers have lost their bloom.
you've already left the room.
any color appears drained from my face.
you've left without a trace.
or is this an illusion?