Naked Singularity

In the confessional

Of our unhappiness;

Thirty little fingers

Built desperate bridges,

Three burning tongues

Recited worn apologies

Before the altar of Baal.

But there was no voice,

And no one answered

Our pleas to know

Our greatest sin.

So we left the vine

As severed branches:

Our final transgression

taugh me that

a lie is like a house

you can live in forever.

Hers, a mirage that settled

on the land of my father,

the backyard

where we buried the

remains of childhood pets

and secrets

and I wonder,

“how did I let The Dark

wrapped in newspaper

images of the day.

Your raised hands shake and rattle them.

Your red face refuses to stay quiet.

Time is a dark, cluttered room

and I don’t know where

to begin unwrapping you.

But Christmas comes once a year

uninvited, unyielding,

a reunion demanded.

So I unwrap you here each year

in white powder and

strange embraces that

I inhale you, artificial happiness

I chase you with bitter little pills

Because reality cannot choke me

With my chemical throat

And one hundred dollar bill

You, time-thief seductress

Me, racing-heart fool with

Too many words, too many secrets

Shoving each other past numb teeth

Exposing me to strangers while

Regret waits for me in a cold bed

And shame rises faster than the sun

Who reveals bottles emptier than me

And ash from forgotten cigarettes that

Settles on the carpet like ghosts who

Remind me that I need you to be

That girl with a sincere smile who

Doesn’t long for eternal sleep or

Makes wishes on fallen eyelashes

For anyone/anything/anywhere

That isn’t me/this/here where

Everything is black and white and

I don’t know the difference, that girl

Who doesn’t drown memories and

Self-destruct like her father predicted

Who isn’t wedded to the lies he told

You keep my secret, play pretend while

Pushing me forward, always forward

Somehow back to where we began but

You are just my self-fulfilling prophecy

Into callouses

On your heart

But my heart is weak

Like a dying star