I started mourning you way before you died
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so public about it
So recklessly articulate
I started mourning you way before you died
Maybe it was me out there, handing you the rope
Making way for you to commit suicide
I should have known that your death
Was not your own end
But it was the death of something we shared
Yet after death,
The game we used to play still goes on
Regardless of our fingers becoming numb
And not toying with the strings anymore
Regardless of the empty stage and the curtains falling down
The game has a mind of its own
Irrespective of you or I
"pig correspondence", A New Collection of Poems
-
Here at Lulu our Nickel Hole Press have just published *pig correspondence*,
a book of poems from a few years ago. This will be on Amazon in a few
weeks. ...
4 years ago
1 comment:
Hayla..
One of the best I have read on this blog...it says much. The title of the post too..
It's a story in itself. Piece of art.
Post a Comment