Poem: I don’t watch you

This is the first time I’ve sat down and said, “I’m gonna write a poem,” in years. Catherine and her entourage are a bad influence on me. As if I don’t have enough directions to be split into.

I don’t watch you.
Your granite eyes
. scrutinize me blindly,
. finding fault in the empty air.
Your pain so deep–
smashing your soul
. to a smoky powder:
. a stone crushed by the hand of God.
I can’t see you.
Your words whirlpool–
. sucks my spirit away
. and turns my brain into black mud.

. [Rest is impossible.
. Awareness is as well.]

I can’t find you.
Eyes scratchy, sand
. in their bony sockets
. wishing away the shell that you left.
You are safe, just.
Only because
. your broken, injured flesh
. can’t convey you too close to the knives.
. (the pokeys in the plan)

I don’t watch you
for you’re not there.

Only your black shell
which I must love
for it’s all that remains of you.

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2 thoughts on “Poem: I don’t watch you

  1. Is that all that is left of me? How unfair this is to you to guard my broken soul and try to keep me from harm. It isn’t possible to stop me.

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