Modern Romanticism

Starved of life,
rejecting the presence
of the exposing sun -
revealing ones that you
haven't known.

You blink to unsee,
choosing to be blind,
craving darkness
to drag you
in reverse.

You’re pulling petals
closer to your scars,
digging yourself deeper,
veiled in depth.

There’ll be more to realize,
when you’re not thriving
with eyes watching
for ashes to fall.

It’s radiance
that illuminates you
in the haze, the mist.

It’s someone else’s eyes
closing in on you.

It’s what you disbelieve
that others see,
that others weep for,
as you’re chasing
after the first open door.

The petals keep you
remembering endings,
those that can’t be
part of any beginnings.

You never allow
time to stop,
to come to appreciate
moments in the middle.