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Wild Speculation

O' Esperanza, my dear Esperanza,
I fear that my eyes will never
meet yours inside love's chaos,
and the sorrow of wild speculation
captures me, chains my spirit
to the depths of sordid anguish.
 
I'm missing the warmth of you,
chasing paranoia through insane visions,
just waiting, longing to know who you choose.
I am certain it will be him, I can not speak his name
for fear that he will sweep your beauty away from me.
 
Here in this silence, this swirled mass of mute indecision,
I splatter the notions of you never kissing me again.
 
All those fanciful words that fluttered from lips;
swollen with passion's bloated presence,
they rush me, steal away from memory and strike
while I pace this derelict imagination,
these tears, on the edge of reason's demands,
are like ghosts dancing around the fire of my cheek,
pain's vicious smile is but a breath in the distance,
I know it so well, have felt its texture on my tongue.
 
I wonder where you are right now,
with him, alone, surrounded by friends;
flowers of advice blowing petals of concern,
and I wish you were here, in my arms.
 
Love, it is more pain than joy,
it rips emotions open with its teeth,
tears them into tiny slivers of desperation.
 
All my life I have been pursued by sorrow's wings,
why should I think things should now change.
I am a fool, thinking happiness could enter
and not be murdered in cold blood.
Bitterness sweeps through me as I torture the self,
it skips with anger, holds its hands so tightly.
If I could face self-pity then I would surely hug it
while it stroked my sacred frown with cool fingers.
 
Am I wrong to want love to be kind to me,
to throw wide the feelings that characterise?
It seems each time I find myself close
I am ripped apart by sadness, its cruel laughter.
 
Desire, it cuts my soul into tiny fragments,
shards of solitude mock loneliness
while I search the heavens for a sign,
anything to let me know I am not second best,
not a failure that only holds love's trails
while she walks into other lives with hope.
 
O' Esperanza, my dear Esperanza,
please do not abandon me
for I could not bear to live in a world
where you were but an image
slicing the glass-eyed looks I'd shiver
across want's ambitious personality.
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Submitted on August 14, 2010

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Ian Sawicki Claim this poet

Ian Sawicki has been writing poetry for over twenty years. He is a Manchester born poet, who has dedicated his life to exploration and composition of poetry. His work reflects the many great influential experiences of his life, the pain, the pleasure combined to create new exciting poetry. If anyone is interested in my books then please visit my lulu storefront. All artwork on these books is by my own hand. http://stores.lulu.com/chasingtheday more…

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    "Wild Speculation" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 26 Sep. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/91281/wild-speculation>.

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