Darwin’s Denoument

Sitting at
a standstill where
the hills refuse
to sway,

pharmaceutical
sadness
addicted to this
beautiful
axis of
spinning round
the days.

Thunder
sounds tired of
stomping its foot
for a sky that
never makes
good on
rain.

This is what
I’ve faced in
the days you’ve been gone,
ascended
that ladder,
kicking out rungs.

This is
cold water you
poured in my lungs, to

make me
empathize with drowning,
but hearing
you
drunk on
its merits lends

no comparison
to make
the jump.

Likewise
I received
death’s dowry but never
really
felt
that love.

I felt
drugs and morning
afters,
infatuations
infectiously mastered.

I declared
disaster where
you denounced
recovery,
renamed my Rapture as you
embraced its
company.

And the long sleep
will judge
me same as God looks
down on
the others,

except I choose
to remain

sitting at
absolute
standstills
where the
hills refuse
to sway.

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