surrender

reality, i am on my knees
staring straight at passion’s
grave. my hands are raised
slowly above my head. i am
yours now—white flag, dejected,
on the ground. the grass stains
my flesh, imprints my defeat
in silent letters that spell out
i-will-never-belong-in-this-grave-
like-world-please-put-my-no-home-
heart-out-of-its-endless-misery.

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