Brush off the tear and pretend I’m fine;
you’ll pretend to believe me,
How sweetly we lie, just you and I,
Deception-shrouded captivity.
//
Brush back your hair, while it’s still soap-damp,
My fingers loved to linger,
Just you and I, how sweetly we lie,
Should I take the ring off my finger?
//
Brush off the joke, like it doesn’t hurt,
Like you didn’t mean it to;
How sweetly we lie, just you and I,
In my bed’s a stranger I once knew.
//
Brush on the paint like I used to do,
But the canvas won’t bare me.
Just you and I, how sweetly we lie,
Trading mistruths for eternity.
///
About the Creator
Chloë J.
Probably not as funny as I think I am
Insta @chloe_j_writes
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
This is a challenging poetic form and you have mastered it to paint an emotionally layered narrative. I am in awe.
❤️