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May 2016 · 351
Prisoner
Priam Smith May 2016
This self-imposed prison in which I dwell
Has become my own personal hell
Why I don’t leave I don’t quite know why
I’m no more chained down than birds that fly
Outside my window I sit and stare
Unbound and unchained to this armchair
Lacking of strength and absent of will
I can’t take my gaze off that windowsill
All but my mind sits perfectly still
May 2016 · 345
Ache
Priam Smith May 2016
Uncertain tension, and not knowing
the gates have been broken, floods flowing
anxiety replaced with a kind of relief
unknown become known, tensions released

The last three weeks of sleepless nights,
and endlessly shifting streetlights
stretched across the wall, divided by blinds,
and tortured with ideas of all kinds.

Wondering why and how it came to be
That you seemed to have lost your love for me.
And when I came to see you, my thoughts were confirmed:
You said “I’m sorry, but this bond is adjourned,

Possibly to continue at another time.”
And even without words, I heard pantomime
That you still loved me. I believed it true.
That you just needed time to find the true you.

But now here I am, heartbroken, alone,
Deleting your pictures from my cellphone.
‘Cause it’s the memories that hurt me the worst.
Haunted by the happiness, the thoughts of our first:

Our first touch, first kiss, first I love you.
When our love was exciting, fresh, new;
Our burning flame flashed like forest fire,
So fierce, so bright— how that could expire,

I will never understand, but I have to accept.
Love’s too good to be true, what did I expect?
May 2016 · 769
Happiness Lost
Priam Smith May 2016
Memories formerly a pleasure to think about
Have become a sharp knife to carve my heart out
The thought of a look, a place, a moment in time
Serves only to recall what is no longer mine
Everywhere I look, and every thought I have
Reminds me of the lost happiness I had
Every morning when I open my eyes
Unwanted thoughts of my anguish arise
And I do my best to cast them aside
But it seems to me there’s nowhere to hide
A standard breakup poem.

— The End —