Modern Romanticism

I held onto, as much
as I often thought was worth it,
hearing your heart
against my ear,
going blank with thought,
forgetting what I was taught
when pain was coming near.

I believed I could keep
your eyes, smothered in clouds,
in that peaceful way
of letting go of rain.
I surrendered to that notion,
while being enslaved
under blackening emotions.

I believed I could keep
walking the same way,
as nothing but sickness
kept me going,
while my mind was slowing.

I thought that, upon when
I gave you a fatal release,
I would go forward, at ease.

Your face in those clouds,
your coldness in these winds
keeps me touched.