Standing at the looming bus stop,
the sign hanging over me
like a guillotine about to drop.
Slowly dreading walking away
from what I was thinking.
Already starting
to miss the feeling.
Am I sinking.
I don’t know
if leaving is right
but I know I'd end up
regretting
staying the night.
You can't place a lid
on exposed thoughts,
they are out,
floating
caught in the urgent current
of the wind.
Trapping what remains,
and blending it in.
A lid
won't stop the rest
from flying away.
You can't stem the flow
or dam the pain,
where rivers of hurt
choose to go.
Returning to the scene
won't change
the way things used to be.
Won't transform the hurt
into happy memories.
A stone statue,
staring absently
into the gloom.
If I don’t move soon,
I'll grow roots.
Here the bus stop still looms,
watching my thoughts
rushing through.
I'm thinking in abstracts,
just to distract my mind
from memories of you.
The mind doesn’t keep things simple
It sometimes slips and tumbles a bit.
It never sits still when I want,
it just flows from thought
to unfinished thought.
Caught in the headlights
as the bus creeps in.
I start to see the light,
blinding with insight.
I realise,
I left
because
it wasn't feeling right.
So, if you think
I'm on the edge of breaking
I'm not so fragile.
My heart is stitched up tight.
My soul has walked through darkness
and strolled in the light.
I'm not gonna fall.
My head is held high,
I step on the bus
and watch as night has arrived.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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