Void

No, I’m not sure at all.

Cytherean Dreams

I’m sure
you never read
any of this.
You can’t.
Because if you did
I’m sure you’d react
somehow, respond
in anger or demand
that I stop immediately
as you’ve done before
when all I did was talk.
Just words that
disappeared into the air
as soon as they
were spoken, even if
remembered by those
you said came to you
to tell you of my love
and left convinced
by you of my instability.
This doesn’t disappear
these words
they drop into the void
between us.
Never mind the rushes
of heady joy or sick anger
that wash through me, as if
you took the words in
and sent this back to me.
Never mind the ghost
who haunts this page
never leaving a mark
beyond a footprint.
You’re not reading.
Because if you were, how
could you let me be?
Knowing me and
who I am and
how…

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