Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I can feel it, trickling, petering, everywhere I can see it, settling, tumbling, as dust falls I can hear it, whispering, carving, etched into silence when they go, it's so sudden, cut-throat, from having a physical support to just having no-one, from being cared for to total mistrust, of everything and everyone People are like tattoos, they ink themselves to your skin, they leave markings, not at all ephemeral
0
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
The loss of myself.
I can feel it, trickling, petering, everywhere I can see it, settling, tumbling, as dust falls I can hear it, whispering, carving, etched into silence when they go, it's so sudden, cut-throat, from having a physical support to just having no-one, from being cared for to total mistrust, of everything and everyone People are like tattoos, they ink themselves to your skin, they leave markings, not at all ephemeral
he took so much from me in terms of who I am - I thought I was a whole person before him but obviously not, because I am most certainly not whole now Worst of all, he took my writing - everything's tainted now. Over the boy, not the loss of myself.
autumn-shayse
Written by
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem