Word Play

Samuel D.H. Scott

You hung up like a masterpiece,

and left behind your emptiness.

An air loom, shrill with icy sentiments

that pierced my head like an ear ring.

When that emptiness was hurt full

I used fear to fight the separation.

A dozen phone calls per severance.

I perseverated.

I thought I found sanity in you

but actually found you insanity.

Then I hack-sawed at your memories

just to have my piece of mind.

Little Ms. Understanding

met her mystery,

we had the time, but I misplaced.

that pain drenched me like a mist ache.

The games we played

were twisted like word play.

When I played them alone

I was in dependence.

I used to lose myself inside you,

you were amazing.

I used to love the way your hips would get down,

and then you fucked me up.

You’d gallop through my dreams like a night mare

And scold me with your hoarse voice,

that my quivers and quakes were well deserved

because the fault was always within me.

I was moved by my emotions from I’m perfect to imperfection,

as you picked away all pros from my confidence.

I had almost found them again

when your spite removed them.

But alas, I’ll be the first to tell you bluntly

that this poem has no point.

But to tell the cloud of you that rules my days

I wish to be left alone now, reign elsewhere.