lanx australis

i don’t know much about you, but i know you were barking up the wrong tree.
it was certainly a scandal when they found out.
when i got to you, you’d already lost your eyes.
i found them on the ground beside you
(you laying there, helpless)
and of course i recycled them, for that is what the worthy do.

your sight was less than splendid without them,
and i did my best at walking you around the neighborhood;
but there was something you needed to finish, and that wasn’t for me.

so i closed my eyes when you entered the building,
and you guided me for a change.
you were familiar with every nook and cranny, every hole in the wall:
yes, this was your home.
i knew there was a time that you trusted it.

we took the elevator, because it was faster.
i knew you had all the time in the world. you did it for me.
but i wouldn’t have minded spending a few more stairwells with you.

on the highest floor, in the throne room, was where you died.
you had to do it. it was because of me that you made it there,
and i regretted it.

either way, i had to open my own eyes if i was ever going to get out.