Eboy

 I called you “my life,”

But didn’t I say,

Freedom is dearer to me?

I burn your effigy,

And with it, the Apollonian archetype:

Sun god, 

radiant mind, 

benevolent heart, 

wise,

Free spirit who dwells in the woods,

While I remain confined,

These images have been tossed into the fire:

The Elysian eyes, 

The soft voice,

The fingers meant

for strumming lyres,

The only magic was my imagination,

It could evoke a sigh,

You came from a place where,

You were told you were broken,

And needed to be fixed,

Faced horrific injustice,

But still you conquered the world,

At night you trembled with,

a sorrow I could not stand to see you suffer from,

and I cursed the world for not granting you happiness,

When I reached out, you shrank away,

Seeing me as just another person who had wronged you,

You had no understanding of me,

You with your different gods, different language, 

What were these but shadows on the wall?

Was it a friendship at all?

It is hard to believe you ever existed,

That you were not a dream,

What were you but pixels on a screen?