News

It was like there was nothing left to say
when she left the creases in her clothes
were not smoothed by the action of sitting here,
undressing me, emotionally.

Behind her was the walk of someone without direction
and she couldn't falters, pretend she knew not,
not where she was going.

And as she looked at me before embarking on directionless
I felt her need to touch to say once more
what could never now be said.

There was an aching in the solemnest
of the shadow that occupied the space
where she had stood in her denim jacket

And all I have to remind me now
that I am irritated
by the call back vision of those cheep bracelets
that fell up and down as she expressed with her arms
Something that had nothing to do with the words
that she said it was an expression
that she'd never let me call of the heart

She said she didn't feel like that
didn't think like
that that was not what she wanted
and I argued how could she claim
it wasn't if she knew that

And I am reminded that there was words
there were feelings there was emotion
but there was no space for it now
that wouldn't suffocate us.

The paper that she tore on the floor in her stamp
was all that I have left to hate her with,
the broken mess of news,
stamped onto the floor left to confess; manifest.