Fool

There's an alacrity to the downfall
From this soundproof, shatterproof window
I watch from the other side, alone as always
The smiling fool crashing in what was once
Defined as elegance now turned sadly into
Bitter, repetitive ugliness no mirror gratefully reflects
Even God turns away from this mistake

Shall I beat upon the glass and drown myself
In the fury of my untethered maelstrom of frustration
Ill-willed anger at faults none to blame but myself?
Shall I sob loudly and scream in vain for my inability
To grab this smiling fool and throttle her senseless
Pleading for her to stop being so cruel to herself
And cry her tattered, clawed to pieces of a heart out
So I can stop weeping for her sickly sweet visage

On the edge of wakening, there's more fear than relief -
No, no relief at all. Just overwhelming, disheveling, heart-wrenching,
Hand-shaking, Nervous glancing, Brow-knitting fear.
This must go on. Go forth deeply and tragically as it's done
Day after day crawling into week after week stumbling
Into month after month dragging into year after year
Until with a heaving chest, burning lungs, eyes rimmed with
All the tears unshed from wasted minutes dropped into a watery grave
Spent in solidarity by the coffin of a haunted woman
Who cannot let go, will not let go. She has the loving touch of
The coldest, boniest fingers this smiling fool will ever know.