Tristan Robert Lange

The Killing Word

“Yeah” is a word that kills me at this stage,

Leaving your lips with thoughtless apathy—

Turned away like an old forgotten page—

Like crumpled paper from a distant age.

Tossed into the wind without empathy,

“Yeah” is a word that kills me at this stage.

This picture becomes something I must gauge

As if I’m gifted with telepathy.

Turned away like an old forgotten page,

Your word dismisses and leaves me backstage,

And produces in me antipathy.

“Yeah” is a word that kills me at this stage—

A cold murder that I cannot assuage—

You hit me and run without sympathy.

Turned away like an old forgotten page,

Like clouds hiding the sunrise this dark age—

Like hearts stricken numb with neuropathy.

“Yeah” is a word that kills me at this stage—

Turned away like an old forgotten page.

© 2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.