Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Hanzou Oct 19
She once held my face like I was her world,
Now her words cut deep, like daggers unfurled.
She looks at me now with disdain in her eyes,
What was once treasured, now she despises.

I see stuff sometimes, each one like a blade,
Saying this situation makes her spirit fade.
Not from the place or somewhere, but from me, I know—
A reminder of the love she let go.

A person who sees me a disdain, needs to run far away,
That every corner of a place brings her dismay.
But it's not the streets, it’s what she can’t bear,
The ghost of who I was still hanging there.

I feel it all—the whispers, the weight,
The way a person rewrites love into hate.
That silence screams louder than any blow,
Crushing the heart that once made me glow.
Words left unspoken. This is a creation on a muddled mind.
annh Dec 2020
::
There is place in my mind
Where my thoughts can wander freely,
Once they stop inspecting themselves
So very very CLOSELY;
A place where they can dance
Naked around the living room,
Unencumbered by attention
To detail, to the opposite of detail,
To the opposite of the opposite of detail.

:
The tricky part is that to find this place
I must get lost looking for it;
Only ever realising that I was there
Once I am no longer where
...Intention meets in-attention...

::
‘Everywhere's been where it is ever since it was first put there. It's called geography.’
- Terry Pratchett, Wyrd Sisters

— The End —