Gone

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I’m locked lamenting in our living room,hoping she won’t sigh at me,that girl. Exhausted,I haven’t done a thing,not since the last time I could remember. Do you understand? I can’t quite remember why,but I’ll shrug an...

I’m locked lamenting in our living room,
hoping she won’t sigh at me,
that girl.

Exhausted,
I haven’t done a thing,
not since the last time I could remember.

Do you understand?

I can’t quite remember why,
but I’ll shrug and sit.

Then I’m gone.

I feel a blanket,
it’s wrong.

I wish I knew why.

Here I am,
waiting,
remembering,
forgetting.

It’s so cold,
old bones on the move,
though I’m still.

Again, I’m gone.

I feel chirpy,
like the birds I’ve avoided,
not by choice,
imprisoned in a cell that has the nerve to be comfortable.

I wonder if someone misses me.

I wonder if I miss someone.

There used to be somebody.

Perched on the arm of my chair,
if I think for days,
I see his face,
but it’s different each time.

It doesn’t matter,
for just like me,
he is gone.

So, why won’t they let me go?

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