scripturient

carnival

oh, what a carnival. 

unsure of whether i saw you the other day,
as it was nothing but a quick, forlorn glance
try as i might, to ignore your presence:
i debate whether you deserve another chance. 

sitting under the tree we once sauntered around,
the ghost of your figure queries my own for a dance.
looking up at our initials carved into the wood:
i reminiscence over spoils of our so-called romance. 

tracing the lines we'd engraved prematurely,
before questioning whether it would last
your first name next to mine, up there:
nothing but a saccharine-coated scar of our past. 

you were the earth; surrounded in green
lush forests, forged landmarks, and ocean tides.
i was the moon; gaping craters, yet blanketed in night:
my shadow was a constant figure at your side. 

however, it was nothing but a circus game,
you chose to live as if playing in an arcade.
so when the odds stopped spinning in your favor:
you pulled a disappearing act, to escape the mess you'd made. 

 oh, what a carnival.