I have no right to speak
To the one I have crippled.
To the one I have slain,
To the one I have drained
Of all her tears, in the next day when she
Will come to kiss death,
And speak aloud to the open,
Words that berate upon when I hear them,
Words that quake my heart into reverberations,
Words that loosen fear from my mouth, in repeated breaths.
I have no right to weep,
When she weeps.
I have no right to sleep,
While she sleeps.
I have no right to say no
When I fall low to catch the last tear
To ever cross her broken smile.