When taking one more breath becomes what hurts the most,
to put oxygen in blood that flows through the chambers of a
shattered nautilus to a mind better left without memories…
Memories that never go anywhere but to the cracked, grayed,
faded old mirror that somehow still reflects one last, sickly,
fraudulent gleam of hope in a dark room….
Then only one choice remains, in this importunate faerie world
where everyone lies to themselves and cheats their own hand
at solitaire played by two’s in front of a crowd of laughter
What choice is this you may ask, but you know, don’t you—
know the glaring, searing pain when you open the fucking door,
leaving sunlight to burn away the ashes of a lost embrace….
There are no ends, there are only means, and endless openings
to the labyrinth of souls in which the air is too cold to breathe,
blood too stiff to flow, mind too inconsequential to exist
in any universe but this unholy purgatory that would be hell,
if not for that damned single ray of hope that won’t diminish,
won’t give in, won’t let a broken heart finally be consumed….
If only to lie awake in the dark