Poetry of a Conlanger

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Phantom Seppuku (5/10/06)

Striding alone,
But feeling halfway decent about life-
A welcome change.

But turn a corner, and
-bam-
it hits me.
There they go, drooling all over each other.
A ghostly hand sticks a serrated knife into my stomach
And twists.

I run as it starts to rain.
He knows it hurts me,
But he does it anyways
(is she that much better than me??)
and there’s nothing I can do about it.

So I run away,
But I can't leave my feelings
-or the knife-
Behind.

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