This day holds humidity in my heart.
The temporary return of familiar love
left my broken outlook painted in contentment
and pushed healing hope into my lips,
yet you,
who refuses to give romance,
who tramples my confidence in mud,
who haunts my midnight chorus,
you return to my heart in the overcast cold of the salty Chesapeake.
and I cry and I cry and I cry
hating you for making me reread old moleskins
to realize that perhaps it was never me you loved,
to realize that perhaps my body was destroyed in folly,
to realize perhaps you just played a game with us all,
and I simply claimed you with the loudest song.
fuck you for pumping in my veins.
let me completely love another
or come find me.
the insanity you commit
pushes me into the midnight abyss
and my pieces began to fall between the cracks
and the hopeful glue melts into the inky black.
this ghost hasn't left my unconscious lungs.
I know I am almost done,
but the rhythm of your death is the worst part to feel.