“watchman”

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