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Jane Austen Heroine MAG
You let fall again those tears hidden so
long beneath shiny surfaces, and think
of the long-ago whispered promises
hanging in the darkness now, the days spent
writing love letters you throw into
the flames today. Old tears and new, smearing
ink on diary pages, extinguish
the old fire. You remember the pitch
black night, wild thoughts running through your mind,
feeling as though your feet would not touch the
ground, with no stars or moon to guide you, just
sweaty palms and a candle that the wind
blew out. All you want is a day without
broken hearts, but all you see is time gone
by, silence that let truth become a lie.
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Moving. brava brava
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