Sonnet for the Dark Girl

I can tell you don't mean it when you say "I'm fine"

and you're bound in ropes of your own design.

I can't be your angel because I don't shine,

but you look to the skies to give you some sign.

I don't want you to go and leave me behind

while you search for things you don't want to find.

I bleed from my tongue instead of speaking my mind,

words that would somehow seem more unkind

than the way dark habits can blur the line

between right and wrong, and then combine

the two into ownership-- but not mine,

and I see your descent is smooth as wine,


and when you're gone, some will call it flying

and I wonder who but me will feel the dying.