this is now the time when
the digging in begins.
when bleeding knees land hard
upon the floor.
I’ve tried to numb these feelings
I tried to drink you away.
I just keep seeing your face
through the eyes of my heart.
I know it doesn’t make any sense
and it doesn’t to me as well.
but I feel this as real
as anything I have felt.
I feel your absence from my day
and your distance from my heart.
the silence where you were
is a sound I can’t take.
maybe I just dreamt the thought of you
I really have no idea who you are.
but maybe there was something
in that tiny little spark.
whatever it was, now it has fallen silent
and I have to bind these pages into books.
leave the books on shelves
where no one will read them.
collecting dust
and losing all of their worth.
this is a poet’s song
and I am singing.
singing of you because
of all the things I feel.
singing in vain you
cannot even hear me.
singing until I don’t long
for the sound of your name.
Oh, I liked this so much. Everyone has one of those books on the tippy-top shelf of their darkest closet.
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