I am drawn to the dripping of tears
down cheeks.
The solemnity of salty dew staining skin
red

like ink on parchment.

I am addicted to tragedy
chilly

like the ***** of a needle
the ache of ******.

I cannot tell you how it began
only that it was and is.

This enticing wonder to walk towards
the slip of loss and more.
Mossy gardens erased in rain and floods
that wipe it all away.

I cannot tell you how it was
only that it still drones on.

I am destroyed by the notion of pleasantry
the conception of goodness.
I am drunk on the thought of heartache
and wasted on love.

The mere idea of love.

I am ruined by it.

the intention
the thought
the wondering
Wasted on what if?

I cannot tell you when I knew,
only that time ceased to stall
and barreled on
like I knew nothing at all.

For a moment, I am done asking questions.
I am done thinking of tomorrows
when today’s not nearly spent.

I am useless
Floating driftwood and empty eyes
on the memory of love.
A victim to the possibility of more.

So much more.

I cannot say where I will go,
only that I cannot stay.

I am blind to breezes far away
that push me from the sun
into the winding river now
where I am drowning on my wasted words
on my tragic heart.

Upon the lust to lose and lose and lose
until I’m lost again.

The glamor of pain
the pretense of trial

I am languished by the desire for something–
something grueling.

I cannot tell you how it was
how it began– where it ends
I cannot tell you when I knew
where I will go, why I cannot stay

I cannot tell you how it was
only that it was and is.
that it still drones on.
that I cannot stay.
that time ceased to stall,

and barreled on,
like I knew
nothing at all.