The Saddened Chronicle: The Promise

The broken lamp was never fixed20151207_165649 (2)
A mixture of joy and grief cling to
It, I am too afraid to change the
Bulb, stood silent I mull over the

Predicament, of seeing these mint
Green walls, my bare feet tremble
On this tightrope because part of
Me desperately wants to fall, stray

Socks are balled up at the end of the
Bed, just as bags hinge under my eyes,
I haven’t slept, save for the quiet naps
Between television shows, re-runs on

Repeat, I could spit them quote for quote,
I don’t know how much time to devote to
Cardboard boxes and vinyl records, to
Clothes hangers and Christmas sweaters,

Endless reams of useless things, they’re
Bringing the moving van by tomorrow,
I stand in moonlight bathed in borrowed
Time, the extension cord points in a line

Towards active sockets, shooting stars and
Flying rockets pass by, I try to shuffle forwards
But I am cement, block solid and heavy, stuck,
Unable to afford the levy tax to move on

How can I continue when you are gone?
Squeezed into square shapes and packed
Away from sight, trapped in this plight, all
I can see is that one broken light.


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