Hopebroken

I see it: luminous and effervescent,
a mirage at the end of the reddish tunnel.
Hear it: sounds of a spinning playground
liberated with laughter which rises
and whispers past my ears,
Stepping keenly, I travel forward,
the uneven gravel littered with rocks
which graze my naked feet as I stumble
clutching at the jagged wall,
drawing heart-wrenched blood
away from my pale face.
Nearer I move, hastening now that
I can hear us talking,
envisage the fireside where
I rest my head on your shoulder
ignoring the sharpness of the bone,
turn my face to yours and
see my reflection shining back.
Folded like soft dough, the corners of your
eyes craft your bewitching smile and
cement the promises, the future that flutters
inside my bound hands.
The scent of it spurs each step to
fall faster from my running feet
but the incline sharpens,
knees buckle, the well of hope
I had poured us into echoes with
the sound of my tinny voice.
Expectation blurs, seeps into distortion,
crumbles as my arms stretch out
probing through the dampness and cobwebs,
choking on the salty air. I race,
the treadmill accelerates and
what I longed for is silenced,
hope evaporating as I sink
to the dank floor.