the fallen time

i’m lucky — heaven knows, I know I am —
but keep returning to the fallen time;
she sat beside my bed and watched me shake,
a circled square, just dying for a line

in terrored dreams of autumn, roaming on,
beneath a sky the tinge of blood and smoke;
she watched me wander over to the edge,
the things i couldn’t say, the eyes bespoke

with nothing left inside of me to love,
and only ugly wanting for a core;
she still believed this early rotting corpse
could transform, one day, into something more

the fallen time: the years packed into hours —
the days i wished for nothing but to die —
completely self-absorbed, and racked with pain,
when only foolish love
would dare
sit by

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