Synthetic (Soul)

We sit in a room

You, Me and my synthetic sole soul

You’re leaning

Back against the wall

Cigarette in hand

Eyes rolling slightly

As you try to forget

And I

Hang my legs off

The table

Swinging my feet

In time with your breathing

 

‘So...’

You whisper

And I laugh at your

Discomfort

At least, in my head I do.

In truth I bite my tongue

Try not to shiver

In the air-con.

 

You stub your

Cigarette against the wall

And attempt to meet my eye.

Instead you

Stare at my feet

(Synthetic soles)

And sigh.

 

‘I’m sorry. I can’t help you.’

 

We nod.

Me and my

Synthetic sole soul.

Reviews

[EMP]

ohhhh myy goddd. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. *adds to favourites*
i love the cold feel of it, you can feel tension and i love the homophonee.
AWESOMEEE.