Poem #1,942 – “A Rope for your Freedom” – Modern Romanticism – 3/9/2022

I could not be the one
to strangulate you,
to triangulate you
at pinpoint corners,
leaving you crying
at the tearstained skies.

I could not be
the devil you always expected
to hold your hand,
leading you through
to misery’s bleak company.

These hours I leaned
on the traffic jam of your
stops to be next to me.
Sighs were repeated,
life was defeated,
buried with the rope,
the noose of hope.

All the pain
you left, for me to admire,
as dark blotches along
the crystal highway.

Each of those stains
collected, in being
carved dysfunction for where
you had been crying.

My love, rain if you want
while passersby go missing
looking on, with slowness
to where we crashed.
Crawl, if you want
to remedy yourself to the sliver
of fading light in our
despondent tower.

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