The Madness of Two (a F.O.B. golden shovel)
Trust, I never miss just being an “I” —
yet you and I were never a must.
Before I combust, I confess —
the less you know, the more I’m
alone with the thoughts in
my head and they’ll always love
you. Even, up to, and with
my last breath. My
last breath blows out my own
flickering light. Light a candle for my sins.
5 thoughts on "The Madness of Two (a F.O.B. golden shovel)"
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Good development in this poem throughout…
I like how this poem feels like a single exhale and goes from restraint to surrender. I particularly like how you used that last breath to blow out the candle.
Well written with tension and great word choice.
You transcended the “exercise de style”.
I will light a 🕯️ for all the sins you turn into poems as delightful as this.
I miss you 😭😭😭