Dead Man Watching


I look out the window at the quiet absence,

In the stillness of a dull summer night,

I smell the chlorine in my hair as I bite its frail ends.

Its sunny color washed out by the moonlight,

Different from a confused summer before…

Sweeter without the sweetest presence,

Sometimes I dread his presence,

I dread he is watching me,

Sometimes I wish terribly that he is…

His sweetest words I found,

Could leave the sourest taste,

And shake the hardest heart,

Could make you let out an embarrassingly loud scream-

I bite my hair and tell my thoughts to shut up,

Just shut up….  

A shadow passes, I jump to see…

But it’s not you, I sigh…

You’re not watching me.


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