The Fire In Your Eyes

There you go, making tragedies trivial. Turning storms into a cloud burst.

You’ve taken what was whole and left it splintered, scattered—pieces I would’ve cherished, pieces you let fall into the dirt.

Puddles now oceans, depths where no man’s foot can touch the ground.

You weep, how you weep. A map of sorrow drawn in saltwater and ash. It streaks you, marks you.

I can’t bear it. Don’t cry. Don’t. I’m cuffed to your joy, strung up by it like some poor fool waiting from the gallows of your heart.

If it falters, I fall too.

It’s not so dark. Not as dark as you think. There’s a light here with us. I’ve seen it, felt its warmth when the world is cold and cruel.

Like a fool, I cling to it. Because that light— is you.

May the shadows of your soul be unveiled by the fire in your eyes.