Take Her to the Christmas Dance

Inflections in your voice say you don't mean it. When you're steady, you're lying still.

When you want to act dumb, you ruffle your hair. What an endearing habit. How cute! I'm to forget that your eyes are scrutinizing me for weaknesses.

Your fingers try to find fissures and cracks, some hole to break open wider. When you don't find it, you get frustrated and leave me exposed and broken.

There's an opening in me but it's not normal because its not at the bottom.

It's right in the middle. How did you miss the gaping hole in me?

Like a black hole, it sucks the sunlight out of every sun and then eats it whole.

Just like my soul, going through spasmodic damnation.

How I hate these pockmarked surfaces, so then I wonder why I loved your face. I despise holes because they remind me of the emptiness.

No holes in my body but the one in the wrong place, right in the middle. A place where my soul used to be.

Extinguished, though not like the lights at dawn but like a life snuffed. Nip the evil in the bud, they say but the evil was left and the best and biggest part of me is gone.

No blazes of glory.

No fireworks.

No marching bands.

No gun salutes.

No mourning.

No dancing. No rejoicing.

So much silence. Such madness.

The morning, that short morning ended so suddenly.

I waited for night but it's always evening now. No one saw where the sun set. No one knows where the sun is. No one knows where the first ray of sunlight has gone.

The last ray is etched on my retina forever and ever and ever.

I prayed for it to end well.

It's ended. I don't know about well.

18. 11. 2008

Postscript: my name has a number of meanings and one of it is 'the first ray of sunlight' among others. No sunlight if there's no sun.