PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

...Her world crumbled again

as she realized there was something she missed.

Her previous life was not recognized,

had not been for some time,

but a voice, a scar, dead skin and dried blood,

reminded her of how it felt to be born again,

and die in unrelenting pain.

She gazed at him long ago, and wondered

what was on his mind.

That innocent wonder turned to resentment,

as she knew he was testing her.

She gave up, stopped caring, drew herself in,

and left town.

Here I am now, Zac, in Missouri,  

the air cold as I have become.

What happened with you and myself,

as 'us' and 'we' are presumptuous words

implying a relationship,

was constructed out of spite, faithlessness,

and competitive nature.

I had everything to prove to you,  

no tools to use but my own broken self.

Maybe someday, I'll come back to that town.

Until that day, I have become stoic and unwavering

in my path...