justadeadpoet

Good Bye

Last time we met, your hands,
taut with indifference, rolled
slim joints to metal bands
rung tight round my collar.

Someone else’s burden
grew thin and sharp, I choked
and choked up once again
as canvas sought to learn

just what made stone so strong.
There – my reflection bold
grasps firm in hand and heart
to the beat beat I heard

calling out my tired,
familiar greeting.
You, whose first name – Liar –
recalls buried loss burned

beneath the pile of tears
turned ashes. Do not think
you own me from my fears.
Soon I’ll bid you Adieux.

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