long night —
I sit by the stream
replenished by my tears
ever so often. (a place I have always come to close
myself as rusted lockets) the tables around me weren’t empty;
even music, sometimes, has silence.
they speak of moments and laugh at buffoonery
that never lasts past its time;
just as presence never marks belonging.
What of the smiles and the pain —
that which coexists and conceals thus? O, Eos!
a knife —
I slit the veins along my wrist.
gently, the blood flows into
the water; I am
cleansed. you will not step into this place
I call hearth.
your hatred for reliance
manifests upon your desperate
need for company.
you giveth me hope
that which does not exist goodbye,
for there is no meaning in lying upon
this land just to watch
stars shoot by before we can wish for anything.
rest your heart upon those who
can give you what you want.
I cannot. I will not.
if falling to my knees is what you ask
of this love,
you may excuse yourself. leave.
I do not fear sardonic eyes
as you do. What do you call the single dim light
trapped amidst the beauty of a scarlet night?
originally published: 18 Aug 2015