Every time I've left with a change of clothes, you've said,
"Come home, baby. This time, it'll be different."
Lunacy, my friends said, this longing, while you remained
Indifferent as the moon on a winter night to my
Pleas, my desperate texts, begging you not to
Share our love--yet you did—and I've returned
Every time. For I'll always believe your lies.
About the Creator
Geoffrey Philp
I am a Jamaican writer. I write poems (haiku & haibun), stories & essays about climate change, Marcus Garvey, music icons such as Bob Marley, and the craft of writing. For more info, visit my webpage: https://www.geoffreyphilp.com/
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Comments (5)
Sad and tense.
Haunting! Easy-flowing and plausible with an expert touch.
You've given your readers a lovely one here. The loneliness is palpable. I love how this piece could be interpreted in so many ways. There is both a sturdiness and an open, vastness that I appreciate. Wonderful piece.
Beautiful but quite sad.
So sad, we all have been deceived by love . Excellent poetry