I stand watching the invisible bus fly past.
No escape, no exit from this path.
Do I have something in my eye?
Cheeks swollen from tears cried.
It's the fear that hurts the most,
The fear that you can't cope,
that the only thing getting you by
was that thread of hope dangling from the bed
of someone you thought you knew.
When you finally realise that the love isn’t true,
you wonder, is there something wrong with you?
Was there anything different you could do?
A different version of this where hope comes through.
I stand here a little longer,
the bus may come soon.
And what is behind me?
My lonely room with her stuff
littering the floor making it feel
like a shrine to a false goddess,
or perhaps more like a tomb.
It was doomed before it even began,
our hearts ran in different circles,
our storylines at completely different angles,
but I let my heart strings dangle
and I was pulled right in
At first it was solidarity and bliss,
all the loving memories of a first kiss,
but those quickly became a dark mist
clouding the vision from all the hurt
that was lurking, ready and eager to pounce.
I gave away my 8 ounces,
and she fed. Lips crimson red.
Inside I bled from where that muscle once sat,
the pain was enough
to make you wish you were dead.
You see, she got into my head,
leaving it an unmade bed of mistakes,
friends became people I once knew,
faded outtakes from a movie once viewed.
Every thread of life, she pulled from above
like a puppeteer, controlling the way you live.
Turned into a bag of nerves, too scared
to emerge and become the person I knew I was.
So, I stand waiting
for a bus that will never come,
they stopped this service
a long, long time ago,
but I get to stand here
alone for a while,
knowing that the antimuse
can't dull my shine.
Knowing that I'm standing
on my own two feet
and not being taken for a ride
by a puppeteer
with a wicked smile.
Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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