End Game

Written as part of a poetry exercise, I wanted to share.

Yesterday I spoke to you for the last time, today

is all that I have left of your scent and

now you are a figment of my slumbered, yellow imagination;

 

clouded white, fog; deathly vision pains my unfortunate, raining, eyes,

stabbed with the pain of tears, stinging, hinging on reality;

ringing with the changes that yesterday were so far away;

 

standing here in the now, without you and with you,

still, time hangs around my neck as a noose, tightened,

frightened. I want to forget I ever spoke to you.

Reviews

[Philip Muls]

Somebody or something that really impacted you. You want to forget but it lingers on. I like time as a noose around your neck. Situations where you cannot structure time, it works against you.

[Lola_Bee]

Very mysteriuos and alluring! I enjoyed this piece. The words were very captivating

[cycy]

very interesting piece you have here...the title especially grabbed my attention, well written hey

[Zachary]

Thank you, I really appreciate that.