_"Light claws at the dark,_ _Pericing the black veil,_ _Color ignites a spark,_ _Clinging darkness soon will fail..."_ I watch the slow sunrise, Reading bad poetry from 1875. Smoking my rooftop cigarettes, Trying so hard to forget... All the pretty things you did, How I acted like a stupid kid. Fell in love too fast, too deep, Should've known better, You were never mine to keep... But now Pretty things always remind me of you... A cluster of stars, Deeply healed scars. Red wine stains, Sunshower rain. A Sweet summer breeze, How you could love so much, with such ease... It almost pains me to see beauty, Such delicate radiance feels like cruelty. Pangs my heart like an open wound, I loved you so fast, And you were gone so soon. I laugh into the cold morning fog, But it doesn't sound like a laugh, I sound like a wounded dog. Waiting for you to come back... I return to my book, Reading about how Light fuaght the black... ... I spent all day finishing my pack of smokes, Trying to write my own poetry... they all seem like bad jokes. My lungs are tired, and so are my eyes, The sun is setting now, So different from the sunrise. This doesn't remind me of you, This sunset stained garish pink and red... It reminds me of Me, instead. Graceless and Messy like my poetry, Choppy and dangerous like an angry sea. If I see you in all the Beauty, Then I see me in all the spaces in between. If you are the Sunrise, Then I am the Sunset... With a rueful smile, I put out my last Rooftop Cigarette.