The Hilt

Only one breath left,

Only one touch disintegrated into thin air.

I wanted so much more than you could give.

And blamed you

For the very thing you could not control.

I did love you.

I love you,

But that love flows from me

Like blood from a gently weeping wound.

The dagger lays on the ground,

Has my name,

My sorrow,

My intention.

I could no longer let it sit in a pristine glass case,

Waiting to be used.

I do not know what you think.

Is pain real if it isn’t uttered?

Is love real if it isn’t made clear to the heavens mountains valleys flowers...

In a pool of dark ambiguity,

I drowned.

I hope you felt what I felt.

Because that is why-

the struggle would be justified.

Until then,

I release my fingers from the hilt of the weapon

And let it fall freely to the floor.