Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Burn Out

These things wont keep him.
There is only so much space a wardrobe can fill.
Clothes stain within time,
materials wither.
Same for the toys that spark new flame in his eye, eventually they will burn out.
These things won’t keep him.
He searches for more, yet you look outward into a heart that once claimed you.
Magnified only to see rubble
Vapours of what was.
He is no longer here, even when bare chest within view,
Insanity marked on your forehead trying to figure what to do.
You curse
You plead
You long for comfort, for even if his body remained. That would suffice.
However, he is not here.
What is it that you miss?

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