The Pawn

I sit here looking up at the stars

I remember how I used to swoon.

A familiar shadow darkens my face,

as a contrail scars the full moon.

I wonder what my future looks like,

without you to spend my best years.

Bitter smiles and dead eyes,

using laughter to hide the tears.

Some days I go mad - I hurt myself

-trying hard to scratch off your mark.

It bleeds, it stings, I hide it away,

I'll wear years of pain like a scarf.

The moonlit contrail leaves no trace,

unlike this love-sick cancer.

I gave you everything I could offer,

now I must beg, steal, and borrow laughter.

Its quiet in this field we once shared,

not even the crickets sing.

I feel the whole universe is mocking me:

the pawn that wished to be queen.