(no subject)
Reverent Night Hate
One night is all we need
to fall in love and fine the state
for all those stolen years of labor.
This night, we'll stare at the swift-
ly moving skies screaming by.
We'll flick lighters for a beacon
in the darkness to be found.
There is no reasoning with the sane.
There is no reason in the way
the lights dance across a face
in the quiet minutes after love
ends forever. She wants to see
you cry. She wants to die
when you don't. There is no
one that wants you there.
You're a ghost if you choose.
You're a ghost if you dare.
There's a cave-like charm
to the fluorescent lights
on the cement ceiling.
It's safety. It's open-
closed. It's the love
of a tomb sealed happy
at the sunset of yesterday.
One night at a time,
it's all that we're given.
No amount of freedoms
won can liberate the mind
from the constraints of time.
One night, buried in lyme,
stuck, tires spinning.
We're just brain-gray
lumps left stewing in bodies.
Lights betray our true colors.
In the dark we're all the same
shade. And when she flips
the switch, sick of being
the same, look at her face,
and see the disgust. See
how she flees, how she breathes
hard in the rain dripped night.
See how she comes back
tomorrow night to kick
the dog and click her heels
to wish you home again.
She wanted more than you
have to offer. Her life
is brain-gray, bruised,
afraid to sleep. While
you sleep, she sings to her
life and damns it, then dances
to the song you sang for her
right before she sneered
and walked away from your tomb.
It was one night, taken as given,
then returned when it was through.
It was scratchy, it was flawed,
it was hell say goodbye to.