Untitled 1

I can see the sun

but I feel it no longer.

I remember the burns upon my face

when I would soak it in too much

or the warmth I would feel upon my knees

in the summer months

when I wasn’t afraid 

of the cold biting at my bones.

 

I cannot feel the sun

but I wear it on my face

share it with my vocal cords

spread it with my teeth

and light it with my eyes

while empty space occupies my mind 

dark, unforgiving, a swallowing thickness

nothing

a mask of brightness 

in place of a shell.

 

My skin is growing cold.

The sun is slowly dying

tired 

of giving itself to others

lighting up their faces

glowing across their teeth

so that they can feel the warmth across their faces

against their knees

against their backs.

But

it’s own warmth

is beginning to fade

from a comfortable summer

to an unforgiving

endless winter.

 

The snow teases me

allowing the sun to peek through sometimes

lighting up the darkness

of extended nights

and gloomy days

but then the clouds come back

and night falls again.

 

It is dark.

But then the sun comes back again

and I feel like perhaps

the winter is worth sticking out

but then

it disappears

and again

everything

is

nothing.

 

 

Sometimes I wonder 

what will happen

when the sun is finally gone from my face

and it is so badly burnt 

that I won’t accept pieces of it back

and what will happen

when I slowly start to freeze

become a statue

with no way to melt

but no longer care.

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