Friday, February 17, 2012

I don't hear you.

I can't see you.
You're a ghost of a fictitious past.
I gaze at the outline and wonder where that time went
why words were said
were the actions dead.

Why go back when back was wrong?
Don't get along, little doggie.

pitterpat. pitterpat. pitter. pity.

Is this hurt forbidden-
knowing, deep in your mind, the truth is perpetually hidden?

It's all messed up.
and I'm away...

No comments: