I want to feel the weight of love. The sanguine angsts of longing making my lips sour. How could I let myself fall fragile to limbs of chance? The loss of trust has shaken my tree bare. How could I?
I have cried behind closed lips for so long that the windows of my eyes have fogged. The outside streams of hope have escaped my desperate thoughts.
The shades were drawn for the last time.
But why? How can I resolve to stay sauntering in dark rooms? Without even the smallest daydream? No more swooning nights. No more woeful pangs.
All that’s left is maudlin. Tears have ossified in the loss of loves sight.
Take me where the poets die.
Remember me as weeping melodies.
Remember me how I have forgotten myself.