Move Over

Move Over

Move over-

skewer and sword

that cut too deeply,

slicing through the inner peace I created,

which was never solid enough

to offer a true foundation of self.

Move over now,

and leave me with an absence-

a dark so thick

not even a lighthouse’s light could pierce it.

I’m lost now,

without even the slightest stage

left behind by my rickety ruins.

I don’t recognize myself.

My reflection is that of a vampir-

nonexistent and translucent,

disappearing the moment I look upon it.

Move over, old self.

You’ve fulfilled your purpose.

And I’m going to miss you terribly.

You gave me something to stand on,

even if you were lopsided.