On Tuesday evenings I go to the chapel

I stand and sing and I miss you

I gaze upon the moon that seeps through the glass window-

And ponder upon my existence.

Your tidal hair

pulls back your lashes-

but you are shadowed

cornered by enigma.

I don’t know you-

not really

my thoughts tug you into the mystery of the night

sitting you in the far pews of the chapel

I can’t see you-

no,

but time is non-existent somehow

I think you have stolen it

This was meant to be me moving on

Meeting new people-

shaking hands and painting faces across my own

But I still see you

I feel you

Ah, what a torment

Why you?

Why have you done this to me?

Heart?

Why have you betrayed me.

I stand here, on the stage

perplexed

as you seep into my thoughts

Whilst I fade into the mystery of the night

somehow becoming it—to myself