Written in Grey

I wish more than anything
that I could want
the best for you.

Whispered words
printed on a page,
singing songs of regret
and loneliness.

My heart, too,
joins the chorus.
Myriad voices, singing
in solitary unison
across the universe,
an aching refrain;
a mournful melody.

But,
there is no room
in the bars and meter,
in the quarter notes,
the full rests,
for you.

I mourn
the things you took from me.
The light you stole from my eyes.
The capacity
to fall
without reservation,
to trust,
to believe in love.
I mourn
the identity
I had, in you.

I gave you
everything
I was.
I gave you
my trust,
my loyalty;
and you took it
and ran.

And your melody
reverberates in my head,
a church bell,
sentencing me to damnation
for the sin of loving you.

So I hope, one day,
I can want
the best for you.
For now,
I must sing,
raise my voice,
and re-write the song
you made discordant.