I am dark, not here, not there; absent in your eyes
clouded by perception, time, and doubt.
Make haste; tell all who will listen, you are the martyr
in the life, you have begun.
I am plaintive, sickening the pit where you eat;
hurling my name, washing it down copper drains.
Actions played in your hands taste bitter;
leaving acid to build inside
I am pessimistic, my face erased with marker,
smudged in desperate fingers;
left inside worn clothes, given away without concern.
No second thought will be permitted.
I am gone