Chivalry and Chaos
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Poetry

07.24.16

8/21/2017

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Eternal Ball
​You love the elegance and the grandeur,
Being led and spun and held close, then pushed away, then pulled close once more
The line of young dancers all strangely coordinated and seemingly lighthearted
You ignore the sunken look in his eyes, the defeated smile
He’s only doing this for you
You know it, but you pretend his smile is one of content and his eyes are filled with pleasure
Your hand is in his once more, he’s crushing its pale delicateness into dust
This shell that carries you: it’s frail and obsolete, and you’re cursed to house in it until the end
He knows it
He knows how weak your body is, and how easily he can break it if he chooses to
You’re nothing
Weak, crumbling dust pouring through his fingers and falling to the ground near his feet
You’re his and he will do as he pleases
All you can do is wait
And hope that this dance lasts forever
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    Poetry is not my forte, but they say creativity is about being vulnerable. So, here lies all that I am, and all that I ever was. 

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