It's Getting Dark

“My battery is low and it’s getting dark.” Is what I heard just before we had to depart. That’s what they said, and it left a mark.

We had just left the world to enjoy a day at the park. It was quiet, peaceful, everything we needed – until we had to part. “My battery is low and it’s getting dark.”

“I really should go; this was lovely Clarke.” The words carry a weight that lay on my heart. That’s what they said, and it left a mark.

We shared quiet moments; the only other sound was of a lark. Their lips met mine, sweet, caring, soft, but their phone gave me a start. “My battery is low and it’s getting dark.”

I didn’t know – how was I to know – you never really can tell the intentions of a shark. “We’re sorry, dear, for the one that you lost. Please, can’t you just share some of their art?” That’s what they said, and it left a mark.

I sat in the dark, after the park, alone and left with a reminder so stark, your lips upon mine, was that the last thing I could offer, the only good I could impart? “My battery is low and it’s getting dark.” That’s what they said, and it left a mark.

“Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…” They will tell our stories for years, after forgetting our names. There is no reason to fear, no reason to stray.

There are times when we cry, scream, or even pray, to those who have forgotten us, despite our acclaims; “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”

“But Clarke,” I hear, “how can you go on, do you intend to stay true, and alone in this world, without love, without hope, without dames?” There is no reason to fear, no reason to stray.

There was a time when I felt full of love, and had a lot to say, there was once a time when I felt more than this chill, there was thrill, there were flames. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”

But that time has left me, there is no more fun, no more play, I have no reason for Cupid to find me to be someone for whom he aims. There is no reason to fear, no reason to stray.

I look around the room, at the wheel, the dirt, that damned clay, canvases, paints, strings you used to pull so deftly; like my heart, now as empty as these frames. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…there is no reason to fear, no reason to stray.”

I thought we could be happy, together, I thought we could have our happily ever after, eventually. I thought we would get to be our own forever.

But eventually never comes, the ties that bind sever, like the strings you once pulled, so lovingly, artistically, thought we could be happy, together.

You once knit, purled, curled on the couch, with needle and scissors, I once sat beside you, book in hand, reading obliviously, I thought we would get to be our own forever.

You once painted, made colors I had never seen, just ever so clever, while on the computer I coded, programmed, toiled, worked so smartly, I thought we could be happy, together.

I worked to the bone, night and day, hours wasted on that rover. You once danced, twirled, and me, I was floored, staring lovingly, I thought we would get to be our own forever.

We fit together like knots that hold, you were my tether, so how is it fair that you have come loose of my hold, the one I can barely – I thought we could be happy, together, I thought we would get to be our own forever.

I have sat, I have worked, I have given my all, I have done what I can to make that dream we once had – You know what, I am done, they do not get to make the call.

They say “oh how far can one man fall?” To that I say, “watch me, you fools,” it’s like they’ve never been sad. I have sat, I have worked, I have given my all.

But rock bottom means you can only go up, even without standing tall. They said going to Mars was ridiculous, a fool’s errand, a fad. You know what, I am done, they do not get to make the call.

So here I will stand, if I can, no I must, I will not be made small. They’ve angered the bull, they’ve marked me as done, and that makes me mad. I have sat, I have worked, I have given my all.

They whisper in the halls, between walls, over calls, “he doesn’t know how to play ball.” They have forgotten that the most famous of men are often armor-clad. You know what, I am done, they do not get to make the call.

They scream and they shout, “we made it to Mars!” as if we just drove to the mall. They do not know the toil, the code, the tears, what I have given to not feel so bad – I have sat, I have worked, I have given my all. You know what, I am done, they do not get to make the call.

“My battery is low and it’s getting dark.” Is what I heard just before you had to depart. That’s what you had said, and it left a mark.

You had just left the world, I stood in the park. It was quiet, peaceful, everything I needed – so why does it ache my heart? “My battery is low and it’s getting dark.”

“Can you hurry in tonight? There’s a problem, Clarke.” I take my sweet time, I think of all that was unsaid, “there’s so much unfinished art –“ That’s what you had said, and it left a mark.

It wasn’t quiet today, children’s laughter, birds singing, and a dog’s bark. You wouldn’t know there was a storm on Mars, the kind to end what we did start. “My battery is low and it’s getting dark.”

I didn’t know – how was I to know – there was never any plan to disembark. “We’re sorry, dear, for the one that you lost. Please, can’t you just share some of their art?” That’s what they said, and it left a mark.

I sat in the dark, after the park, alone and left with a reminder so stark, a series of codes, a single image, an alien landscape, grainy, dusty, and a world apart - “My battery is low and it’s getting dark.” That’s what they said, and it left a mark.