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Untitled
by Elizabeth SeagoI miss the way we were, I say.
Reluctantly.
His eyes have this beautiful way of
Tearing me down until I
Have completely lost all consciousness.
Our intentions got crossed
In the buzzing of
Telephone lines
And the grazing of thighs
And the highs and lows of the
Time spent alone.
I am convinced that I do not cross your mind as much these days, I fail to mention.
His brazen voice responds with
Dead air.
I allow the silence to place things on the shelf where they belong.
10/23/2007 Posted on 10/24/2007
Copyright © 2024 Elizabeth Seago
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jean Mollett on 10/24/07 at 01:50 AM Hi Elizabeth,
Good one. I guess quite of few of us has been there before. |
| Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 10/24/07 at 02:34 AM That last line is great...and 3rd stanza, too... |
| Posted by Steven Kenworthy on 10/25/07 at 01:02 AM i love this poem because it is a true reminded of what it feels like not to be wanted as badly as you want the other person. much like the song "walking by" by something corporate, sometimes all you can ask yourself is what did i do that you can't seem to want me? then you take time to reflect upon it all only to realize that you wanted something that no longer existed hoping to fulfill a fraction of the void that has been created by the originator of it all...the other person. wow. what a complex, but simple thought. either way, i'd say that your poetry (shown here) has matured by leaps and bounds over the last few months and i am loving it. very sharp, but not overly aggressive. the last line is the sinker, but the mind crossing bits really hit me as a reader. probably the most powerful piece of yours that i've read to date. so happy for you seagoo. |
| Posted by Jared Fladeland on 10/26/07 at 11:37 PM why can't the world be filled with more mutual love? sigh. i guess without it, we wouldn't have lovely poetry. |
| Posted by Kyle Anne Kish on 10/28/07 at 11:43 PM Maybe if that failure to mention what you said was spoken, the dead air may not have been his response. Who knows? I love how you formed this poem and blew life into it. |
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