The curtains are closing.
I look at you and smile.
The dance is over.
The steps were beautiful.
The moments forever mummified.
In tableaus of emotion.
Every feeling captured in candid lines.
In pages of poetry.
In forgotten dreams.
And tingling lips when you wake up from sleep.
I was dancing with a mirage.
Everything was one sided.
I had done all the steps on my own.
Selfishly keeping the emotions for myself.
I look back at my performance.
I already feel older,
Wiser, stronger.
Like the woman that danced with your soul on her mind.
Died the moment the music stopped.
It was a rebirth of fire
I've squeezed the night dry.
There are no more lines for poetry.
Or dreams to dream for you.
I've made you mortal again.
It's not like you're hurt.
Or might notice.
Or even care.
You were asleep the whole time.
I'm a little sad it's over.
I'm not crude, I really did care about you.
But mostly I just needed a muse.
And now that you're all written out,
And I don't feel or
Become inspired at the thought of you.
I know it's goodbye.
Just know you danced beautifully.
There were a few good moments,
A few sad beautiful broken lines that will still reverberate through me in one final note.
As the curtains close.
I sprinkle you in petals,
And cover you in pixie dust.
I've buried my lust.
In an aesthetic grave carved from madness.
You're not the first victim.
So many have danced with me without knowing.
Their essence being stolen and captured forever in frozen stanzas.
Like a siren song,
I feel them out and taste their souls.
If you're bitter enough,
Sad enough,
Damaged enough.
I'll lure your spirit away to dance in my secret show.
Then recreate the moments with words for everyone to see.
They'll love you.
I'll make sure they do.
Baby I'll make you immortal.
Then change you back to a mere man.
All while you sleep.
I send your spirit back home.
And kiss you in your dreams one last time.
Gliding through 3ams at nights.
Searching the seas.
One thing on my mind.
I need another one,
I need a new muse by tonight.
°°°
Goodbye dear.
You were fun.
°°°
YOU ARE READING
EPIPHANY
Poetry"I'm desperately trying to heal myself." •. •. •. •. •. I strongly believe art isn't supposed to be pretty, or liked and understood by the masses. Art is supposed to make you unco...
