I’ll not
anymore,
though it might hurt
to imagine,
a silence leaves no clue,
a final word,
a disappearing assurance
that my pain is real,
suddenly if quiet
even here,
never will you know,
no response,
such worded praise,
left in a confusion,
no more rage.
I’ll not give you a reason to wonder,
if in the mystery
you might sense my wander
is to move away
no more clues
only blues
strengthen my resolve
these words
my words
may no longer be for you,
for the world
may not matter to me …
without you.
Time on my hands
little demands.
© Scott F Savage 2019
apersonaljourney - stories of love 