Dust heavy on the shelves,
my heart all the same,
though I’d really want,
there’s no one else
to blame for the fate I carry
in my pancreas
and throat.
I spit at the thought
of you for leaving me to deal
with consequences
never planned for me.
/
Yeah, I promised I’d do anything,
anything at all,
but...
you see...
words were easy,
asked no effort.
simple
shrug of shoulders—lies.
/
lieslieslies
/
lies greasy slid off the tongue easily
made you smile.
/
I was supposed to be immortal
above sin.
But I squandered the promises
you had faith in.
What happened? You changed.
Why?
Your vision cleared.
I’d feared the day
you'd pound the final nail in my coffin.
And then it came.
You saw right in me,
I’d been lazy,
masked it thin.
/
Everything unraveled,
collapsed.
You looked through me.
Cold.
Didn’t care about my cries.
Bold. Loud. Desperate.
The silence in your eyes,
desert-dry,
screeched louder than the scream
that escaped behind my teeth,
when I knew this time it’s real.
/
When I knew
this time it’s real.
/
When
I
knew
the dust is mine.
Mine alone to clean.
About the Creator
Cristal S.
I’ve noticed when I follow the path I enjoy most, I often end up swimming upstream. So here I am, right in the middle of it – writing about it all and more. ♡
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More stories from Cristal S. and writers in Poets and other communities.
A Love Forboding
The chipped stone slope caused unbearable footing. I slid, skirting on my heels. I cast my shield, relinquishing my guard to stay upright. Left with my double-edge and a prayer to the maker, I skated toward my objective. The earthly stubble gave way to solid ground. I found myself restored, a trail of dust in my wake.
By James U. Rizzi2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
That hit me so hard. I've been left to clean the dust alone several times. It's something I'd never want anyone to experience. Loved your poem!
“The dust is mine, Mine alone to clean.” I love that. Beautiful poem. It’s good when we finally can clean the dust and we can finally feel some lightness.
This is so heartbreaking and relatable. I love the last stanza. It's hard to see our own dust, but we need to clean it ourselves ❤️I wish I could give you a hug.