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“Forget The honors handed out, the lists of winners. Forget the certificates, bright trophies you Could have, should have, maybe won. Remind yourself you never wanted them. When the spotlight briefly shone on you, You stepped back into darkness, Let the empty stage receive the light, The black floor suddenly less black— Scuff-marks, dust, blue tape—the cone Of light so perfect, slicing silently that perfect Silent darkness, and you, hidden in that wider dark, Your refusal a kind of gratitude at last.” — Jon Davis
Forget
The honors handed out, the lists of winners.
Forget the certificates, bright trophies you
Could have, should have, maybe won.
Remind yourself you never wanted them.
When the spotlight briefly shone on you,
You stepped back into darkness,
Let the empty stage receive the light,
The black floor suddenly less black—
Scuff-marks, dust, blue tape—the cone
Of light so perfect, slicing silently that perfect
Silent darkness, and you, hidden in that wider dark,
Your refusal a kind of gratitude at last.