Modern Romanticism

I’ve been burned
for believing
that this turn was mine,
that around another
spotted corner,
I can come up
breathing softly.

I cried another night,
screaming in the silence,
hearing my words
float away.

I’ve done something
to deny what’s mine,
living cautiously
upon the tides.

The world seems to
rotate in reverse,
as I revisit old feelings
that I never deserved
while I’m always
digging for meaning.

It’s the fire
I’ve abandoned,
as it’s the cold
I’ve captured
in the open.

It’s these thoughts
that don’t fade,
while I’m crawling
towards a setting sun,
hoping that mercy
has another chance
to give to me.