My Love

My Love

One day, I just gave up.
I thought this thing wasn’t for me.
The only friend that I could count on,
that made me speak, hear, and see.

The piano stands covered in dust.
My fingers still bleed.
My head’s filled with rust.
You’ve turned into a stranger.

Do you still think about me
even when my back is turned?
It has been a long and lonely year.
Where did those songs come from?
Why did they have to disappear?

Closer than the salt to the sea.
We shared our secrets, you and me.
The ivory felt like silk,
like it wasn’t even there.

Now it’s all just heavy.
One dead elephant.
The song of life.

One dead tree.
Everyone’s gone.
All but me.

I won’t give up.
I see you every day,
looking at me,
begging me to play.

Grab my chest!
Rip out my heart!
I must be obsessed.
We’ll never part.

So here I sit.
Lonely and blue.
Finger on the trigger.
Dreaming of you.

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Vincent Van Zandvoort
Vincent Van Zandvoort

Vincent Van Zandvoort is a writer of poetry, prose & short fiction. Science fiction - fantasy - supernatural - thriller - drama. ©️ Copyright 2020-2023. Vincent Van Zandvoort. All Rights Reserved.

Poetry / Prose
Poetry / Prose

I compose poetry and prose about the disappointments of life; dishonest people we come across; crushed hopes and expectations; the corruption that lies within everyone, but also lighter stuff.

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