I bet the spacing will be messed up. I got hit by some really angsty motivation, so I rattled this off. I'll be ashamed of it later.

We will stand in that room one day

a rosy room that smells of cinnamon

and frustration. and I will reach out my hand

slowly toward the wall; I should think

the pallor of its knuckles is alarming.

Once steadied I will ask you if I

can touch your face or pour the tea.

I’ll laugh because you don’t drink tea

ever since the time you spilled it

and the dark black stain consumed you.

and once among the apple trees,

while sitting in the verdant breeze,

i was sure not to make a sound:

i watched you lie upon the ground

placing a long and soul-wrought look

atop the burdened orchard brook

what dark regret that held you there

i now know not, nor do i care!

save that it was to think of me

and us: we two who cannot be

one? o say it so! else i shall die!

to be crushed by the silver sky…

One day

in that room

as fire sears my veins to ash

throughout the idle pleasantry…

I think I’ll laugh and pour the tea.

Anonymous
08:13:23 PM