confusion
and panic
as your words hit-
hurt
my eyes
again.
This was not
what the day
showed
and the night
was too long
for me to have cared.
I’m falling
I failed
my wicker wings
cannot hold themselves up
anymore.
Never knows best-
a pound of flesh
paid to myself,
but i am no merchant.
I haven’t the wares
or the means
to hold myself
above
the strange emptiness below.
When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.