i’ve been dancing alone a little too long
my resilience corroding with each blink
i haven’t broken down like this since
well i don’t expect myself to remember
the stars were the elation
polaris in my bones
the gates were closed, buried deep
then came disintegration
anger’s a game, alleyways in the city
dodging the red, protruding spikes
why did they wait till i was older
to tell me that roses had thorns?
my fist, pale and chubby, wrapped around
the stem. hey. this isn’t red.
your hand smacks my lips and won’t let go
won’t stop pulling away
suctioning the air until my insanity
paints the metaverse ultraviolet.
you were watching it all happen.
i used to love you.
i always wanted you to be there.
you said you were sorry you hadn’t been.
now you were.
and i only felt into the cream white chill
of indifference. was i high?
was i high? because the sun sees me angry every day but never like this.
never like whisking hair, head out
the shotgun window kind of joy
never like sprinting laps round the midnight field,
punching the briared ground
never like curling into my emptiness,
succumbing to madness back
in the ocean, realizing
that when my folk song soul is empty
of conscious life matters
it rests not in indifference
but in pain, coarse and humble
like the night of quiet lights
that i didn't know existed
until last night
one i'll always remember
More by elise.writer
and i remember i was really proud of it.
hung it up on my wall and everything when it made the newspaper.
a year ago today, i took the grey-brown frown of november
and molded it into metaphors with my own two hands. looking
Flash on, flash off.
Maybe it won't be this way forever
but today, only we can see them. Just us.
Our little human secret.
White dots, bits of erasure
on a dark canvas.