Halcyon

grieving glutton

scattered notes, red-inked lines,
the golden diary steeped in my brine,
titled Diary of Happiness,
oh, what a paradoxical sin.
it holds my bruises,
my undying contrusions,
my pain is a poet,
cruel, persistent, and secret.
rewriting the same scream,
until it curves into silence,
leaving me rhyming
with my nonflammable ruins.
oh, what a sight.

i once promised to write
the happiest of my memories,
in the golden-coloured notebook,
but look at me now, drowning in my own brook.
i walk in circles sculpted out of misery.
my pen drags me back into tragedy,
i bleed metaphors, unholy, and unhealthy,
yet none of them seem to heal me.

everyone is distant ahead by years,
but i am still encased by my fears,
warm and cocooned,
maybe, this is all that i deserve?
even my ink trembles with stories
i beg my heart to forget,
hours fold and unfold,
but i'm right where fate dumped me,
time refuses to move,
it loops around my neck like a noose
my page is a mirror,
and i abhor what stares back,
i sew myself with verses,
only to tear the seams once again.

echoes of what once was,
i keep yearning for exits,
but i fall back into the entrance,
i wander hallways made of regrets.
living between exhausted echoes,
oh, the treacherous fingerprints on my soul,
grief mapping every corner
of this labyrinthine life.
it could have been a splendid muse
had it not been a torturer.

i resurrect the pain that killed me,
childishly hoping it might someday heal me.
i dance in the same ashes,
past flames cut me fresh gashes.
living on a carousel of sorrow,
pretending that different words could be a yarrow,
breathing in recycled heartbreak,
my soul rewinds like an old tape.

why, lord, am i like this?
when do i taste even a sip of bliss?
when will you push the reset button?
and save me from the fate of a clutton?
when will i consume joy,
that does not break like a friable toy?
is this the curse of being a grieving glutton,
for perpetual happiness,
punishing me for wanting it?
i can't bear this anymore,
oh, no, look, the pain again unbuttons.