Tragedy sings me to sleeps – 1/7/2020
Tragedy sings me to sleep. not even a door,
a wall can smother the violence that brews so close to me.
A messenger of peace, I’m met with the herolds of the harbinger of chaos;
i’m not prepared for this storm of rage.
You call it love when you weep. Your throat hoarse from screaming,
my heart stutters as it beats–terrified for you to hear me.
I’m living with your shade, no longer vibrant with life,
are you a stranger or have you lost your way?
It’s you and him and him and her as you watch from the sidelines.
The triangle of tragedy is becoming difficult to watch.
This cycle of weeping and screaming and begging has run its course.
I did not ask to be witness to this travesty. Audience to your ruin,
I have front row seats. The drinking, the fucking, the self-hatred
That run so deep, it has become too much for me.
I offered a hand, an olive branch, but your stubbornness makes you blind.
Staggering, desperate for love, for acceptance; I watch idly by now,
Curious how this came to be. How far will someone go for “love”
Even with all of the red signs?