A Love Greater than Honey?
You say “Light” out of love.
My writing,
My poems?
Are in the dark,
So you say.
So much judgment
said in such a round-about way.
I’m not angry,
I’m not upset.
But I also don’t feel guilt or that supposed regret,
but that empty feeling I’ve always had,
And that overflowing urge to write.
Like honey,
As if I were a bee.
A worker bee,
In the dark depths of the hive.
An artificial hive controlled solely by you,
With no other bees,
but me.
So that makes you the human,
The one smoking me.
You’re the light,
Yet you’re stealing every last drop of honey from me.
But not to eat,
To discard.
Since nothing I make
would ever be worthy enough
to put in a jar.
Even so, I could sell my honey to the world,
But numbers mean nothing to you.
You want it for yourself first,
You always do.
Discarded
Copyright © Star Space | Year Posted 2026
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