You lived in my eyes, you said my heart didn’t hold enough room for you and your love weighed more than a pile of Lead.
You pitched your tent on the one spot that was obvious and hoped it would remind me of your presence; I guess I was blind to that.
Light was food to your soul and skin, but I loved to chill in the night and starved you. I guess I just didn’t care.
I bought that thick shade for summer, but thought it was best for Autumn in my upside-down corner.
Now I wear it even in the darkroom just in case it threatens the images in my eyes.
Even today when I turned back the lights and saw the leaves all withered and brown on the mat, it didn’t matter much; this was Autumn after all, but you died of the darkness in my eyes.
Without a thought I swept it all into the bin.
All that was left of you was a bunch of stark naked and defenceless branches that stood no chance in the rain.
Now when the wind blows, it rips through me and lifts every pile of emotions and reminds me of the place where you once stood breaking the wind and not letting the rain in.
Here, emotions walk unclad with no dignity and shame and guilt trace every corner of this lens.
If holding onto these branches are enough sacrifices, then let the rains come.
I’m finding purpose for these hands again holding onto you and as long as Venus twins with earth and the elements are on your side these eyes are for you alone now, until the universe says otherwise.