My Lost

March 1, 2010
There is nothing here.
Still I can feel
and know that he is
nearby. I pray and
see nothing.

Yet I can lose myself with
him, standing there,
as he moves his hands,
his lips, his soul—
To the one I desire least.

Sun, shine! I call
to the skies where I
do belong. He
cares not about me and
I am nothing to him.

I take its silver
hilt, and with a single
breath, I plunge it into
my unbeating heart,
seeing his face last.

Years later, I watch
him mourn for me.
It does not matter
that I am gone now,
because at last he understands.

Cry for me, I
pray, and he answers
my plea. His tears
sparkle in this
lonely, lonely world.

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