Tag Archives: wanting what you can’t have

A Tender Nothing

Deidra from the Dairy Daze out by the bridge

               Sits on the rotted and dirty picnic tables,

               Listening to her headphones, to that one song

               That made her stay, that night it all almost ended.


               The sky is wide, the horizon bleeding out from sunset.

               No mountains or trees, just the plains and the wind.

               She thinks she can see Chicago, the place she wants to be.

               She drinks her milkshake, waits for Mike to come for her.


               That song, about a mermaid longing for the man she loves,

               Fills her with sweet sadness and endless regret, a tender nothing.

               She didn’t cross The Styx, didn’t pass a coin to the boatman.

               But what’s here for her now, that could make staying be worthwhile?


               The road is straight and endless, heading to the sea, to paradise.

               Winter offers at least sleep and solace of hiding away from them.

               Mike is coming down the road, headlights blinkered fireflies.

               Mike is coming, she’s going home, and only dreams offer pleasure.

Mourn The Moon

In the cold, silver waters of the lagoon,

               dark and grey in the light of the moon,

               I look out, from the shrouded shore,

               for the proud mermaid, I do so adore.


               Hair as black as the shrouded deep,

               skin aquamarine, eyes dare not sleep,

               and  tail strong and glistening and green.

               I rapture in unreal found and now seen!


               I watch her, on a dark rock, looking to the sky.

               She comes to mourn the moon; I know not why.

               She looks to the stars, to those diamond glitters.

               She drinks of a cup, the poisons and so embitters.


               I drink of this cup, though not with her, on my own.

               I look to the lightless waters, to her weeping on a stone.

               She wants the sky and it’s wonders, those distant suns.

               I want her, to follow her, to be hers, as my heart runs.


               Both here until the morning comes, gold and distant.

               She looks at the bright sun coming, is gone in an instant.

               I stay until the light is firm in it’s glory, then wander on.

               Me and her, unhappy, restless, cursed by the dawn.