6000
A quarter to 3
And I’m still awake.
I’m sure
I’ll be up by 8;
Staring into space,
Staring at the photographs
That I had to beg you
To take.
Your smiles were fake
But
Somehow,
I was so convinced
That our love
Was too real to break.
I break down
On the 26th of every month.
I celebrated twelve times a year
Because I just knew
You were the one.
Too many signs
Went unnoticed.
Third time
Would have been the charm
But,
I was hopeless;
Hopelessly in love,
Hopelessly invested in us.
And not once
Did you hesitate
To put your power to use.
You rubbed glitter across my noose
And acted as if
I should have been
So mesmerized
By the effort you made
That I wouldn’t notice
My breath being taken away.
I hung silently
From the giant tree
That I of course
Planted for a very different reason;
My consequence
For taking root
In the wrong season.
Copyright 2020 by Kentrell Blanche
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