dewey complexion

I have a half empty heart
which is a pessimistic way of saying
I have a half full heart.
How could you possibly be optimistic about a half full anything?
My heart just sits there half empty and not hungry
Just chugging but not moving
And my eyes can't see three feet in front of me
I'm in this mist.
Like after a rain before the sun comes up
or a little while after it's gone down
And the edges are all blurry
The colors are all blue and grey
And all I can see is tree lines
and some muted moon light
And the thing is, it's kind of peaceful here.
Not a sound
Not even a thought in my head.
No smell except damp, moss.
And I'm here all alone
Answering to no one
Because no one asks of me
And that should seem like loneliness
Except I like it
Except when I don't
And I'm starting to wonder if it should scare me
And if I should be scared because I'm not scared of this
Of this of this of this of this
Anesthesia
and this amnesia
of things that used to matter to me
And this letting go
of the things that once filled my heart
And the wondering
Did I let them go
Or did they leave me
Did they catch the last train for the coast
along with the father, son, and holy ghost
Ghost of a woman I used to know
She doesn't haunt me
She can't reach me
Am I too far gone
Or have  I gone too far
Or did I go just the right distance
This is fog and this is a pleasant purgatory
Lotus eater
except instead of pleasure
I feel nothing
Which is better than pain
A ghost of a poet in me would once have screamed
No, you are wrong!
But that ghost, she don't haunt me no more
She caught the last train for the coast

Here comes the moon up through the trees
I'll just lay in this wet grass
And smell the rotting earth giving life to new earth
and wish for constant twilight
so I don't have to choose one or the other
Muted blue and grey
It's easier on the eyes
Dew drops for tear drops
Better for the complexion