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Lights Off

  • Griffin Hamilton
  • Apr 12, 2024
  • 1 min read

You sear my eyes

with your fiery filament.

A tear may form,

but you’ll burn that too.

So easy to shut off,

but your switch—

just out of reach.

In simply a few turns,

You would be unthreaded

out of the socket.

I would leave you,

shattered, dark and purposeless,

alone on the floor. 

Instead,

my neck is strained up at you.

My hands can not twist 

your light away.

You are too easy to 

silence.

But I am not

the one to do it. 


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