by Caroline Prank
My clock read 0:53,
when I learned my home didn't only belong to me.
Welcome in Mark Anthony, to a darkened stage.
A bath of love and blood vessels. A single pond made of the star crossed tears, coming down your face. The second coming of Cleopatra's grace.
Don't long for him; Long for home.
Long for the times, you've shoved down your throat.
Keep your hands in your pockets,
if you are willing to stare. Only second to the woman that bloomed this love affair. You call shotgun for the backseat, even though she'd already put you there.
You've always wanted to sleep,
with your heart in your hands. So that you know in the morning, no body will wake up. “My reality is me, And maybe it's time it didn't belong to somebody.”
Don't listen to the birds,
that only sing mating calls. If it weren't for second chances, we'd all be more careful, not more alone.
The curtain is up, return to your seats.
Welcoming Mark Anthony, to this showpiece. Collecting nights of love, while supporting the violence of a sun-seen nightmare. Everyone bow down, to my heart's final heir.