what have we come to?

She was the darling star that danced in his eyes,

A rapture of innocence too divine.

For such a flower, I’d give her the world,

So one day he gave her his eyes.

But what he felt was a trembling hand,

No trace of a smile, no crease at the eyes.

The horror, the terror, the monstrosity of it all!” she cried,

“Take them back, my love. I’d rather be blind.”


the masquerade’s falling apart

I buried myself in your subtle captivity,
It was diplomatic delicacy.
I lost my footing and slid into your arrest,
Yet you didn’t seem to address that it was sentimental feeling.

I was fiddling for keys to a coded lock,
To open affectionate Apathy,
But you had receded into nothingness,
The chance of finding you was unlikely.

And maybe I shouldn’t have asked,
What the cat was looking for in the bag,
Because maybe it was a mindless fool,
With inadequate questions.

Perhaps your idea of how jokes worked was different (from mine),
Because when I knocked, you didn’t answer.
You really were only suppose to perform,
Yet you seemed to be directing this incompetent drama.