Iím in love with--all that I have killed.
Iím falling in love with--what would never stay.
I would give my life to them:
These lives that went away.
And I know them in my sleep:
The way they leave again and again.
There is never any peace.
I see them all when I am no more.
I know Iím their perfect canvas as I decay,
Because I donít deserve the love I give.
Itís more than enough to push you away.
Never knowing if I cry or if I laugh,
I do not know if we will ever be complete.
Angels do not come here--what have I done?
They sang to me once upon a time.
But I cannot have my wings
Not even for a second,
Even if I speak through whatís clouding me
When I survive another day.
© 2021 Marten Hoyle