you led me into your lair and began attacking me with beautiful pins and needles that became the artisans of my numb craft. i smiled as your face dissolved into silverlace ambiguity, sinking into the cobwebs of my memory, your sharp features drifting away from me in the pulses of the era.
my head pounded.
i guess i dimly remember you announcing your intentions but now that’s forgotten like everything else, lost when my mind exploded all over my good work pants. and you lapped it up, didn’t you? and you lapped it up, didn’t you? and you lapped it up, didn’t you?
i wake in frenzied breaths, afraid that what i’ve lost while sleeping might never return, and every day i am on the precipice of another loss.
every. time. i. fall. i. never. grab. on. in. time.
patterns and words that used to come to me in spring fountains are now droughted dying poison-parched cisterns; i am listing; i am not listening; you took my ears too. what once branched so plentifully i could follow just one path is crippled with blight, crumbling in the light, shadeless and insecure.
are these my final days? is this the steady step to the nadir?
was i only ever just a roman candle to a quiet sky?
.
will you remember me?
…
is anyone still listening?
