Scribbles of Sorrow

Photo by Ower Yonder on Unsplash

I cross out your name once, then twice.
I lose sight of it and cross until I find a hole under my ink.
The echoes of our murmured pledges linger in the lines between
Shadows of promises fade as my hand becomes heavier as my heart.

I cross out your name once, then twice.
I lose sight of it and cross until I find a hole under my ink.
Each stroke was a silent protest, a map of my misery leading me back to the wreck we created.
And you’re still trapped in the maze of my memories.

I cross out your name once, then twice.
I lose sight of it and cross until I find a hole under my ink.
The paper becomes evidence of my soul’s sorrow.
erasing you, yet leaving imprints of your essence

I cross out your name once, then twice.
I lose sight of it and cross until I find a hole under my ink.
The letters bleed, blend into one hole of dark abyss, a metaphor for the demise of our love
However, traces of your light creep out of the abyss