Something skulks nearby:
a haunting,
a desperate debilitation,
a darkness wanting.
And I don't know
what answer to offer
this cancer,
or even what question it's posing.
But god help me if all I'm asking
is for the closing of the pane.
A fog is meandering in.
Sin cloaked in haze,
haze clouded in sin,
the back and forth
of betrayal chattering:
whispering grins
that plot my demise.
Something doesn't add up.
A missing peace
has aroused my suspicion.
A corpse of secrets
is buried nigh
and the odor
can't hide much longer.
I remember reading this the day you wrote it and then we broke up only a few days later. Can you predict the future? lol. I'm soooo sorry that I hurt you.