The Vast Emptiness; a poem.

What hurts is the echo, The sound of my own screams, The fact I only see you, At night, when in my dreams

What hurts is the casual way, That you deceived and lie, Too much of a coward, To actually say goodbye.

The wounds have yet to scab, The pain throbs in waves, Like grasping for a gossamer breeze, In hopes that it might save.

Not a word was uttered, The last smile to my face, The promise of tomorrow, What would be the last embrace,

Never said its over, I stare into the void, Unknowing what was done or said, That frightened or annoyed,

Is the story over, How sudden that it came to a close, With any resolution, So deep in my morose.

Should I hope or wonder, Should I grow bitter or worse, Should I swear that I don’t care, Should I profane, and curse.

Would ranting and raving help, Venting my frustration, Failing to understand your meaning, From needing a “break,” a “vacation.”

Instead I let the curtains close, The promises we made, On still warm and sweaty sheets, The secrets that we paid,

All that is now null and void, For I never had anything to hide, Let’s see how the story plays, When he sees your other side.

You can’t always hide the darkness, And when you step into the light, He will see who you truly are, And see too late, I’m right.

I rolled the dice and gambled, I sought more than I deserve, I gambled in the game of love, And although lost, I kept my word.

I was never untrue, Never lied or played games, And when asked about my endeavors, I never spoke your name.

I kept our meetings quiet, The chemistry kept still, However all words are broken, Time to go in for the kill.

I’ll be watching and waiting, No, that is the biggest lie to tell, Only place you will find me, See you soon in hell.

a poem by D. Wyn. Price, All Rights Reserved, 2020.