I’ve become the image of my own
dread, the person that hides in the
corners and when the coast is clear
emerges like a king, the man who
shrieks at flashing blurs of boxes
on the screen, turning away with
permanent images tattooed into the
back of his skull
I see your face in every whisper,
every accusatory tone
every leading question, bombarding
my hard plastic shell, like bullets
Why must my thoughts run to Omakase
and cheap Saké, and that sweet white wine
you ordered for me, and the cold beer that
fell through my fingers, and a farewell
kiss on the stairs to the F Train, and
that look in your eyes when I said
your words felt like an inquisition,
what I meant was that I was too broken
to speak the truth, and you were too
kind to see the real me, hidden
behind the fake smiles, and a racing
mind, and the desire to be nowhere else,
but my feet pushed me towards
the silhouette that chased me in the dark,
calling like a siren on a distant shore. I
ran from you, when all I wanted was
to plant my feet by your side and ask
you to whisk me away, every time
the dark glow of skyscrapers and
traffic lights shine on my face I feel
your hand on my thigh and your stare
on the back of my neck, and I cringe at
my cowardly attempt at courage, and
how I drove back screaming lies
at the night sky
Now, you stand in my room like a specter
A reminder of my mistakes
A reminder of my pain
A reminder of my regret
You’ve become
the image of my turmoil
emerging from the
blackness of my dying heart
You deserve someone else
Someone better than me
Someone ready to love
And be loved