The Empty Space

They echo inside, these words most tender.
Ricocheting off the enclosure’s walls,
Dancing, spiraling through the empty halls.
Seeking that high from when I surrendered.

But I still, I still remember!
And do you, do you miss me sometimes?

Confined to memory ever shrinking.
Lost in quicksand of a presence most bleak,
And a future past that had reached its peak.
Into the passenger I am sinking.

But I still, I still remember!
And do you, do you miss me sometimes?

Just one more dose, one sip, that I may rest.
Sleep off the ache of another missed call,
I’m a monster dreaming it were a doll.
Any affection was but human jest.

But I still, I still remember!
And do you, do you miss me sometimes?

Autumn I am, without a September.
A poet’s worst work to practice his rhyme,
Each verse carefully metered to pass the time.
It is with shame that I now remember.

February 18th, 2019 by Passenger B ©

Photo: Unsplash

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