He is tortured duality,
eyes glistening vacantly,
lips parted callously,
self-inflicted amnesia
from words spoken previously;
he used to be family,
one I sought fruitlessly
love me with purity;
a long-winded fantasy,
naive imagining

charming his way into hearts
of the frail,
undefended attachment,
blinded by veils
promises spoken,
secrets untold,
filthy webs, decay and mold;

don’t think to speak freely,
calm winds of new hope,
seize the moment to leave
like a raft or a rope,
leave the ripples in water,
cleanse body and soul,
of residual thirst,
unquenched by the salt.

Emily Cloward ©

Poetry Prompt Sunday

7 Comments Add yours

  1. 🌼ks says:

    😮❤ after the second versus a wave of memories of me and my ex drenched me. But at the same I remembered my hopes and the accomplishments afterwards 😭🤔🚿💪🕛🎖🏆🎉😇

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Renewal and rebirth after a storm. I’m glad to hear it.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Nitin says:

    Very raw dear Pinky. I like.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Gelert says:

    Feeling this very much.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I wish it wasn’t so. Not a great feeling, but glad to capture it.


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