Wednesday, August 11, 2010

The Last I Heard

The last I heard from him was a click
Not a sharp one, mind you
A soft delicate pin-prick
dead center
that slowly bleeds me dry
He is an eyelash forever stuck in my pupil
Blinding my view and causing me to tear
But the raindrops are wasted for he
doesn't deserve a one of them
This place, this space, his half-smiling face
I kick and scream at it in despair
Night crawls, stars fall
And I wish on none
For I am so very done

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