Among Ruins

ARC

-

of course I realize

that long ago

my hopes

of what can never be

crumbled to dust

in his hands;

so why is it

that the old lightning

flashes

when I see his face?

why do my moods

become stormclouds

as my anguish

drips down once more?

-

I know

that he lied

to save my fragile spirit;

but by morning

the pale, tentative light

creeping over my shadowed face

sank deep into me

into blackness

and the soft beating

of my heart

of tears on paper

slowed

stopped

and all was numb

-

moonrise again

counting the months

four, five, six,

losing track

as green dies,

wilting into crimson

falling

and slowly

the numbness ebbs

the blades return

scraping

at my mind

slicing

searching

for an answer

-

he is always

so genuine;

I told myself

“you are healed”

and so

I am friendly now

smiling, talking

with him, my friend

the poet

I no longer love;

yet inside

behind this porcelain mask

my stale anger

burns

with the ghost

of short-lived passion

-

it happened quickly

as usual:

my butterfly heart

perching on word-petals

drinking briefly

deeply

from his crystal well

of gorgeous sorrow

before fleeing

feeble

with freshly wounded wings

to another flower

to recover

what I lost

and lose it again

-

it should not hurt

not now

for he said

“I am sorry”

and I know

those magic words

cure everything;

somehow

this time

it fails to pacify

and I lash out

seeking truth

when it died long ago

-

anger persists

boring holes

through my skeleton

quietly I seethe

without knowing why

what for

or how this came to be

out of one

stupid

crush

-

perpetually cradled

in the sweet darkness

of my placebo,

I tell myself

“you are wretched”

and silently weep;

and sheltered though I am,

buried

under the rubble

of hapless romance,

the pain

still pours down

upon me,

persistent,

scalding,

leaking through

all my defenses

until I drown