Saturday, 16 August 2025

Memory box

 


I find myself lost in

your old poems,

searching

for some meaning

kept hidden within

those messages

you left for me,

but I find

no feelings,

just feeding

me hate contained

in lip gloss smeared words

disguised as love.

 

Was I so blinded

by the light of day

that I didn’t see

the cold night pouring in?

The way the flow

of your lies

laid out

so welcoming,

whilst I lay shaking

wondering what the

next day would bring.

 

Looking through

old messages.

Endless putdowns

buried within them all.

Voice mail snarls

in cutting remarks

left under inbox waterfalls.

I curl up into a ball

replaying memories.

Was it ever really love at all?

 

I wonder was I just a passing fad?

You laid siege on my heart

like my own personal Stalingrad,

leaving only dead thoughts

strangled and bled.

A doormat upon loves locked doorstep,

or the door to my own crypt.

Self-worth left mocked,

wrecked by a wretched lie

and some flowery lines,

soundbites of soulless love

left me despising

the shell I called my life.

 

I find old photographs,

my face filled with dread.

The things you said

fill my head, the way you

made me feel worthless

whilst I lay and bled my heart 

upon the page.

You fed on my anxieties.

The way I took every word

you threw at me

like shards of hatred

to the head and you fled

like a thief in the dark.

Stealing my heart

leaving only a dull ache

where it once resided.

You left a hole filled with doubt.

My own soul ripped out.

from where it once said I love you.

 

 




Thanks for reading
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is now available along with 
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Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle

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