Dark

pots-and-pans

She stands by a window

Rain, rain, rain dripping down the glass

It blurs her vision

It blurs her senses 

 

He sits against a graffiti-covered wall

Rain, rain, rain falling into his lap

And into his hair

And into his eyes

 

She walks down an alley

Bag slung over her shoulder

Hair swept to one side

Shoes clicking on the pavement 

 

He walks through the darkness

Eyes open

Heart beating

But is it?

 

The bag drops

The shoes stop

The hair falls around her face

It isn’t. It isn’t.

  • Author: pots-and-pans (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 11th, 2018 02:41
  • Comment from author about the poem: I legitimately have no idea what this is. It’s almost midnight, I’m tired, my brain is demanding words. Interpret it as you wish.
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 45
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Comments +

Comments2

  • Lorna

    I think it's very good - that's what I think it is... very powerful. Almost like you had a dream but you aren't asleep yet.

    • pots-and-pans

      What an interesting description! Thank you!

      • Lorna

        How about "almost as if you were dreaming but you weren't asleep yet" - much better phrasing! It was very early when I wrote yesterday! Write more!

      • orchidee

        A fine write, and for your age too!



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