i’m bleeding a vermilion smoke of memories
of when I believed love meant forever,
a promise made by damp kisses
and long hugs, broken when you twirled me
under the light of a dingy street lamp and let me
fade off its edges.
desolation reminds you of the letters i wrote you
inked with the tattered hope of your return
that i fought so hard to keep. scrambling
for an unconditional love, you grab a dusty
flashlight nestled in your drawer and shine
its light where you last saw me.
i’m hiding behind the street lamp whose
bulb died years ago.