into our costumes
of the day
as easily as we sieze breath
because they've put us in
a box
turned us into a
category.
Another number
made to replace
us
bound by words
that define us.
We slip into our costumes
bracing ourselves for another
day of restrictions.
the kiss of moon beams
on sun-deprived skin?
who will revel
in the soft blue glow
that falls to the ground
at midnight?
the stars will dance
and faeries will gather
in the presence of Nyx
queen of night
thief of hearts
weaver of destiny
she
like the surface of the moon
will capture all desire
and make all other
beauties
void in her luminescence.
thrown out the window
for the sake of
obsession
acknowledgement.
Illness befalls
those who've gazed into your eyes
fatally wounded by
infatuation
sick with grief.
Those eyes
that torment me
in my waking hours
will cause my death
will break my spirit.
Again I am lost in the depth
of emerald memories
tortured by you
devoured by your existence
wasted by your
uncaring
beautiful
gaze.
on the road to
hell
better to reign
in it
oh how I despise
these chains.