The colossal silence
absorbed two years in their entirety
and left an open space, looming
like the black clouds
we used to wish away.
-
The space between us,
between me and everybody,
grows over time to
unbearable lengths.
-
An alienation, the busiest places,
the same reflections, familiar feelings.
-
I was taught to tie a tie
by anonymous virtual hands.
-
I tried my best to love you,
but your interests strolled
slowly away
towards warmer lands.
-
My five-o-clock shadow
only added to his silhouette,
one which grew larger
as his son kept rising.
-
I reached new heights,
but I felt the same emptiness.
-
I achieved all that I wanted to,
my dreams just brought me
extra stress.
-
Your calloused welder’s hands,
the gloves I have to wear to type,
I pretend we’re one and the same,
like I pretend I acted right,
like I pretend I had a plan
like I pretend I followed it, too.
-
I mix the letters
and hand them to your abstractions,
I try to mend things, try to
tape them back together,
-
but the stickiness is gone,
the air is bitter,
freezing
and you enjoy your freedom
just over there,
right in my eye-line,
-
while I design the cage
and hire architects
to build my pain.
About the Creator
Reece Beckett
Poetry and cultural discussion (primarily regarding film!).
Author of Portrait of a City on Fire (2020, Impspired Press). Also on Medium and Substack, with writing featured… around…



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