Evanesce

12

It's supposed to be sunny outside

but there's no sun here.

There is only guilt,

an Eclectus bird on my left shoulder

humming sorrow so morosely

and a table full of dirty shoes

meant to lie in the doorway.

There is only remorse,

words spoken prior

to intelligent thought

of each, inevitable outcome

because I make the worst decision

on every timeline.

Finally, the sun peeks

through nimbus clouds

and I scare her away

for I was too hopeful.

Too eager for the storm to settle,

too eager for the wind to wither,

and far too eager

for the parade of colors,

racing from one cloud

to the other.