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Sept |
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a poem by Karl Koweski (1 of 2)
red star descending
I've never been good with affairs.
I've never been able to
compartmentalize my emotions
despite what I say to the contrary,
I fall in love easy,
fall out hard.
I'm addicted to the heartsick enchantment
excitement and disillusionment,
the hope and crippled expectations
that comes with giving oneself
over unconditionally
to someone
with a list of conditions.
but don't read this as a warning
or as an invitation
to scorch your flesh
on the heat
of my white hot obsessions.
I'm incapable of burning
anyone other than myself.
beware instead
of the black hole left in my wake,
the implosion of our passion
as the red star descends
and our shared time and space collapses
leaving an absence so total
not even memory
can escape its allure.
I've never been able to
compartmentalize my emotions
despite what I say to the contrary,
I fall in love easy,
fall out hard.
excitement and disillusionment,
the hope and crippled expectations
that comes with giving oneself
over unconditionally
to someone
with a list of conditions.
or as an invitation
to scorch your flesh
on the heat
of my white hot obsessions.
I'm incapable of burning
anyone other than myself.
of the black hole left in my wake,
the implosion of our passion
as the red star descends
and our shared time and space collapses
leaving an absence so total
not even memory
can escape its allure.