You pulled my love like
stitches of
lightning across the pale
autumn airs
never meant to place to begin with but inexplicable
insensitive unapologetic
in their insistence on remaining in an environment
cautiously constructed entirely from
other’s threads
unwrapped from who I knew them, who I
knew you as tenuous
so tenuous and you cut you
tore holes into my sky and from the ripped seams dark water
flowed out
antediluvian does not necessarily imply goodness
as Abzu purifies you corrupt and there is no mother to right your
wrongs for you this time you have no
priests
to which you can bless their lips by letting your name be spoken.
I will not rise. If I rise,
I will not rise far. If I rise,
it will be entirely of my own plodding mediocrity.
but for this do not pity me do not
dare to pity me your pity struck on my gentle
horror is awful lightning or
worse the cloying sweetness of a dead
mouse in a beehive,
nothing but a mummy who’s body is what you remember but not the life
proceed, drone, as usual.
It is as useless as your guilt.
You know what needed to be done and did it.
Do not be sorry for that.
If anything, be sorry for never explaining. A sentence does not
resolve hours of gasping,
panting breath, a sentence does not
resolve forty days of ecstasy.
Your sentence of me
revolves it is but a condemnation. You made the horizon
stand and greet you, and without you I weep and wail and wait for
the dawn
of an age long past a nostalgia for something I thought I would never
know and your glimpse of it makes this worse than hell
for there I lived unabashed, knowing my helplessness and thus freedom from
shame from consequence
but here all affects other but it’s not me it’s who you made me so return it! Take back the
knowledge you fed me, merchant, blind me to the day outside prison I spent because while
the innocence of the coldest winter was correct in that a day is a lifetime of memory
and that the only prisons that exist are those we hold
it was wrong to assume I could ever break the prisons I self-actualize. a
question I am too afraid to answer myself so I pose to you
Why was I born if you already were?