in letters in the shape of a name
or a word
I sense the breaking dawn
of a lachrymose smile
glassy glazen puffy knotted

in an agreement between gods
together, they sing
“to be bright is to be scarred,
and pain is to beauty
as sun is to mars”
both sacred as stars
both beckon beyond the caverns of Golgotha

in my stomach aches turned sour
my mouth burns at the mere thought of speaking
I do not want another year
or month
or week
or day
I do not want forever
I want never
ever
ever
ever
to exist inside this prison
of hearts breaking hearts broken

in my witching hour
with sympathy leading the way,
I collect pieces of the future
and stuff them in my pockets
to save for myself
and nobody else