Escape Goodbyes…
September 16, 2013
My Epil-o-gues
Passive-
Aggressive
Apology.
Regret
The things
You said
You did
By me.
Like building branded bridges
Just to burn
The blood-bought skill of meaning-
Can’t un-earn
Return
Retry
Or
Escape
goodbye.
And what won’t happen next?
A bullet through the chest?
An egg fallen from this nest?
Remorse inside.
A likely story, but none of it’s true?
A suspect futile fiction through and through.
All written well and uncommonly told,
To grab familiar doubts and turn us old.
You’ve got the world held, upside-down
And spilled the milk on your night-gown
The shadow found the furtive shape,
And thus you took- and ate- the grape
From the vine of the
Homely knowledge
Of pleasure and of pain
And wept at life
Imagined: hopeful;
Bereaving
All
In vein.
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