The blink of an eye

Monday, February 21, 2011 § 0

You're with him.
You talk.
You laugh.
"Alex, you know Meg. We're back together!"
You stare.
Your eyes water.
"Sorry, I have to go to the bathroom. Something fell in my eye."
You turn around.
They stare.
You walk.
You jog.
You run.
You sprint.
The memories won't go.
They're like glue.
The love won't go.
It squeezes hard.
You fall.
It won't let go.
It hurts.
It squeezes your lungs.
You gasp for air.
You lie there on the brown gum-filled floor.
Not waiting.
Not thinking.
Just hurting.

Signing off,

What's this?

You are currently reading The blink of an eye at A Poet's Circus.