The street light that usually blazes outside my window at night has gone cold.
The light was never welcome.
Unless my curtains were fully drawn
It's relentlessness gaze burned
Through my eyelids
Branding itself
On my retinas,
And even when
The curtain was closed
It soaked through it
Like too much blood
Through not enough bandage.

But now the light is gone
Leaving darkness—no.
Leaving emptiness
Where it once proudly stood.
It was like a knife
Buried deep in flesh
But not letting
Too much blood
Escape from my body.
Without warning
Or proper preparation
The knife has been ripped out
And I am left
With a gaping hole
Where the street light once was.