Sort of driving me crazy
How much
Lament heavies
It weighs
On my subconsciousness
Consciences
As it levies
All odds
Stacked against me
It knows what I want
More than I ever could
How it knows
It wants you
Even if
It’s not good
And it wants
To apologize
See you sometimes
But still wants
To be so far alone
In demises
Comprising
The see you again
But why would
You want to
Ever
Letters resend
It was clear
It was over
The moment I saw
You were eons apart
From me
Breaking the law
Just to face you again
In my tiny lie shame
Just to feel me
Inside you
Exhaling your name
About the Creator
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More stories from Michael Brandon Marchese and writers in Poets and other communities.
Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford6 days ago in Fiction
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