Modern Romanticism

Uncovered,
everywhere bare
to fullest sunlight,
with those finite,
misleading guidelights.

Warning signs
allowed me to run,
to face away
from an ending
from behind,
in being blind
to calamity.

I passed by
what this world,
of its inhabitants,
call “truth”.

I went by
with a curled smile,
hoping for a time
I will outrun it.

I could feel it
when I couldn’t see
what went through
this heart,
from the start,
so painfully.

I am washing
a pair of soiled hands
in boiling water,
meaning to hold onto
a fever, not the cure
to this disgrace.

It’s a reminder
of wasted years,
tasted tears
running from the top
down to the bottom.