Poetry
Do You Really Have To Come?
The Illusion Of Break You Offer Me…
Prelude
You told me it was just going to be a little bit more,
I was excited, for a moment, not too long.
The idea that you came expectedly, but unknowingly.
The illusion of how great you sounded, forgotten your similar features.
I was sitting, facing the window, with a page of three-hundred twenty-eight.
Which I opened three minutes ago, which I read four lines repeatedly.
With a mine that half blank and half dreary,
Counting of your disappearance.
You looked at me, I looked at you, and I said, “Okay, is this too depressing?”
You nodded.
So, I stopped.
And I changed to….
Factual Emotional State
It’s a rainy, windy, somewhat snowy Saturday. The sky was dark during the day, and now that it is close to seven o’clock at night, it’s even darker. The wind sounds like a monster breathing in my ears. Steady.
There were rainy, windy days that I felt content with. Today isn’t it. I am restless. My thoughts are scattered. I am worried…
