One,
Two,
Three,
Four,
There he stands, watching,
Waiting for the sickening feeling in his stomach to venture into its own death.
Waiting for his sentimental ways to somehow dissolve away from its own depression.
Watching the dove fly by after the shot around the world was fired,
But no-one heard it.
Five,
Six,
Seven,
Eight,
It's been nine years, nine fucking years since I haven't seen your face.
You're starting to look like a distant blur with memories trying to fill its place,
I try,
I really do,
But obviously you don't want to anymore.
Leaving your memory in the dark and left with a void that's expanding.
I repeat the number,
Nine,
Nine,
Nine.
It's beginning to stick.
Nine,
Ten,
Eleven.
It hasn't been 9 times,
It's been 11 years.
You're just a blur
The only thing I remember about you is that, you were born on November.
11-11
YOU ARE READING
It Was All A Blur
PoetryA collective piece of poems I've created. Mostly as a way to cope with my all time lows but to fine some happiness inside myself. There will be 9 total poems and then this will be over. Follow some dark times and lows in my life.
