Each time I tried

to tell you of

my plight, you just

turned away or talked

to someone else. In

the end, I gave

up trying: not to

you, but to ever

believing it truly mattered.

My weakness was in

not walking away like

I should have. Instead,

I now write poetry,

as if that’s ever

as good as what

it felt all those

years ago when there

was just me and

the entire freakin’ universe.


© 2017 L. Tafa


Author: b20f08

I enjoy solo wargaming and writing. The first caters to the boy that never grew up; the latter satisfies a deep desire to communicate. Cheers.

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