KILL SOME TIME જ poetry.

1233AM

it was you that blocked the soul,
you who blotched the patterns of silk, stamped into my skin as a requiem of intimacy.

you caviled about the room in my heart, dented the walls and scraped the velvet veneer.

no room, yet you
took up the room.

in fact you, were the room
in which i succumbed, in which
i fell into through a haste, tore
the wood where i might have
indeed left my putrid feather
weight to descend-

yet you claimed
the room was slit.

no more mahogany for the background gnawing, the guilt like a banshee ready to tear unless i find the real effort to solemnly reel back my pole, and rip the sewn bondage we had.

no room for i in
your cage, you said.

then why did it feel so vacant in despair once you took your wear, and faded ?

you leave me again wanting to help but every time i call your name, you wither as though in pain, and paste in that blame you've wielded.

perhaps its not what i did
wrong, its what i didnt do at all

ㅡ jge.