I don’t want to write poetry tonight
I don’t want to speak of your beauty
Or how the dawn sips your words like wine
I hate the light tonight and wish to abscond
Only with the darkness
For I am unfathomably angry
That there can be no more justice
As there is nothing left in our hearts
I can speak only cruelly of you
As if to stab at your tender flesh
We are each lost in our intellects
And I’d gladly give you back your gifts
If I’d known this love would be so quick to end