Image for the poem Under the Moon

Under the Moon

Holding court on the fringe of a dance floor,
Amid music, and in common celebration for
The ceremony's declaration of love in store for two friends.
The question ducks from behind pretty faces,
It radiates from the loud speakers, and decocts in the air.
It settles as a toxic haze, choking all breath from me.
The question.
How long can i pretend?
Not one minute more.
The night's turned incendiary
Through combustion of my own fuel only.
How i haven't ruined it for everybody, i'll never know.
Does it even show?
How could it not.
My heart is bleeding, it's very bad.
I look to my chest
And imagine a gruesome scene from a horror movie.
It seems the whole party should be awash by now.
But it isn't.
They don't see it.
I look to my chest, just a shirt.
But i can't do it.
I can't stay here.
Every smile reminds of another time.
Every kiss says no more for me.
Every child, every silken hip, every sweet word of commitment
Exposes me for what i am.
A failure. A complete failure at everything i've ever cared for.
I can't stay here.
It's too hot, and i don't know what to say anymore.
I love but i love alone.
Out the door, under the night's moon's bone-white light.
Under a street lamp among trees, tiny stones under foot.
How long can i pretend?
I love her. I still love her. can you believe it?
I don't want to. It's silly. No, it's crazy, i know.
But, i'm not crazy, i'm well aware.
She doesn't love me, she doesn't even care.
She doesn't respect me, she doesn't even like me.
I'm truly dead to her, i get it.
I'm beneath her, oh, the embarrassment.
I wasn't even that attracted to her in the beginning,
And it wasn't that long; to lead to such longing?
She could be dense and selfish and conniving.
I'm wilting, i'm feeling not long for this world.
I'm crying, i'm burning in the night because i know
An ashen cry, she'll always be a coal black sky tormenting me.
I've been with others, more beautiful, since;
They barely peaked my intrest.
I'm broken. It finally happened. There can be no replacement.
I'm fading. I'm growing old and dying. I missed.
Every show of wit, that brings amusement, says not good enough.
Every act of kindness, or intellect, says not good enough.
Not good enough.
I'm not good enough for this world.
I'm not good enough to conquer it, no.
I'm not even good enough to focus all my power into
Carving out a little slice for my own.
I'm miscast, i'm a misfit.
I'm not good enough for this world.
It's funny, i'd always thought it was the opposite.

Written by DylanThomasPirateM
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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