Tragic hands wrap ‘round my throat. In those empty dreams of love and scheme, I once wrote...
But then I get nervous, and cling to shadows. Time isn’t real; I feels it’s claws, though. Sitting silent by the long days. I fake my way through innocent things. Maybe if I suffered more, he would sing haikus I could adore. For sometimes I can still feel those notes, as they bleed through his blank eyes. Dark letters of a voided love, in a dialect I no longer recognize...
-HMG
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Author:
HMG (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 3rd, 2023 01:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
Offline)
Comments1
"Maybe if I suffered more, he would sing haikus I could adore." Wonderfully written line, self reflection on a failure in love.
Exactly. Thank you for taking the time to read me and comment ((:: and thank you for the compliment ((::
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