I am the blank space you seek in your sorrow
nothing less and sadly nothing more
you are the shooter and I am the spotter
immortal, ever watchful
keeping lookout for dangers
you and others cannot see
I am the depth of night, the
tiny pauses between your
syncopated heartbeats
working double time.
in the end, there will be
no place for me.
I learned a long time ago that
no one would save me, so
I built my armor, piece by piece
and became the watchman,
became the tower, built my own
hell, brick by agonizing brick.
did you ever truly love me?
or did you love the black void
canvas you could project
everything you wanted and
wanted to be onto?
do you love me, or do you love
my silence, the fact that I
can read you like a page and
know you better than you know
yourself?
there's a reason prophets go mad
in fiction, you know. we see too
much, we know too much, we
scream warnings to ears unheeding
what do you do when I'm not
there? do you scream? do you
sing? or do you cease to exist
like me?
-Allēna 8/2/2025