S P A R E (D)

Loving not the nature of spirit
Bound within my iris puddles of mud
You splash through, onward to clear skies
Happy thoughts and pixie dust

Free things are for sale
And you bulk buy to store
Away for darker, sad senility
For the depth of despondency
You will touch
Alone.

The minute hand shreds through
The string that trussed
My heart to the power of the sunshine
Blinding in your smile,
Until it melts into a hazy glow
And finally
Goes
Out.

And sigh not so
But let them go
For lo’
I know
The fidelity of relief.

-

A/N: When it started out in my head, two days ago, it was a freaking depressing poem... but now it has a feeling of han to it. Hope mingled in the despair? :)