Dillon Cain Poet Free verse

are you tired of me yet?

the night i realized i could never fall in love again
i saw a white bird at 3:13 AM
contoured,
unobscured by the darkness,
gliding above the black SUV
where i smuggled my rotting flesh,
harbored beyond the shore of throbbing bodies,
bathed in blue light
in a country where i could never be understood

the night i realized i could never fall in love again
i saw a white bird at 10:15 PM,
unconfined, its primary covert
donning the grey spell of clouds
where it found its refuge,
drifting through my weary eyes

are you tired of me yet?

your porcelain hands fractured beneath my stubborn grip,
your fragments surrendered to the current,
destined to wash upon someone else's coast

i gave myself to you
until nothing remained

your life became unwillingly tangled in mine,
and though my miserly delusions
spoiled long ago,
their memories still root themselves like thorns,
piercing my skull

i cannot stop the bleeding

i wish i could apologize,
for you do not deserve to remain imprisoned
inside the amber haze
i selfishly refuse to bury

although i released you several years ago,
i still slit my wrists daily,
just to let the blood leech
my bitter, dried-up heart

i wish you knew
i do not know another way to exist

no poem,
no human,
no touch
can return spilled blood to my veins

on one of the many nights
my heart was drained of its warmth,
i dreamt i gave birth to a baby girl

painfully, miserably,
i folded inward,
with no one
inside my blurred horizon

i only cry openly in my sleep,
because it is the only place
where i see things as they are
without the diluted disguise of hope,
without the beguiled assurances
of my narrowing reality

i remember i can never fall in love again
every moment i fail to love myself enough
to entrust this emaciated body
to another soul

the day i knew it was time to carve this godforsaken life into stone,
i saw no white bird at no particular time

i sat motionless
on a train that would not stop
for my strangled sobs,
for a stalled existence as pathetic as mine

so, with tears i could not suppress 
retracing the map of my bloodshot face,
i engraved
what i had known
since the day you left:

my own death sentence.

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Alison A Smith July 7, 2026 at 11:12 PM Too dark for me. Your pen was surely dipped in sorrows blood for this one. Dillon Cain July 9, 2026 at 12:58 PM i really appreciate this comment, thank you. its a dark reality but i dont think ive ever written something as on-the-nose to what im feeling than this.