Like a candle clinging
to its tears I feel misery
packaged tightly up
inside of me. Hiding
my head beneath a
pillow, I refuse to
look at the droopy
petals of my eyes
that have aged so
fast over the last
sleepless nights.
I finger the glass
beads around my
neck, long to snap
them apart. My dark-
coated selves gather
like mourners by
the river of my heart.
Inside my mind a
terra incognita unfolds
like a map, but without
any roads. I fall into
the hole of my absence
and all that's left is
me fleeing from what
I once knew of myself.

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