Lachrymal Potrait

Our love story begins

a time and moment I let you go

a day I walk through that back door

footsteps marked by trails of driblets

feelings over brims of my entrails

spilt all around like grains of sand

sinking down like sands of time

a one way ticket trip to greyscales

haunted shadows of our phobias.

The wind seems colder out here

quite reclessier in your absentia

I hold fingers out for a search stroll

over tips and nibs of broken pencils 

only a brash but not a droplet of ink

with ink from a lachrymal fountain

I cast lashes and strokes of driblets

adroitly tracing your pretty face

into a tear stained painting. 

 

Everyday I stand in front of a mirror

is a Halloween it's freaky Friday

glancing at my own reflectance

I see not less than a fierce archer

thrilled more than I'm lost in dread

and the unprecedented nightmares 

to see my other self with own hands

tearing down all that we've built 

turning everything around me

into a world of broken dreams.

Now that I've known not a thing

in obligation of oblivion I stand

my passed is a faded strand 

present quizzically unclear and 

future quite blurry and pixelized

I miss someone, that old self 

we were one, now two and 

soon you and I shall be no more

we made the possible impossible

I love you but I can't have you

for I belong to someone else.

Our promises were

may nothing to come in between us

not to break each other's hearts

now look what have we here

a cyclone of cardiac casualties

drenched in ruins of own scythes

if we couldn't save our selves

who would then be here to save us

I feel sorry for our selves

With all the love around us

yet we can't love each other.

I light my candle high above

shine light upon my sobriety

wake me out of a preset dementia

shoot flares of hope high in the sky

a golden retriever like a shooting star

get me off knees right back to my feet

If had I loved you then, I love you more

but now only through a window

though I belong to someone else

my heart only belongs to you.

november (the black poet)

*woes of somber hearts*

©2023