
This new absence confuses me
with its lack of hatred
in the same old distance
so vast I can’t measure it.
I wander down these desolate corridors and hallways,
hear these same echoes of my unanswered voice,
feel the freedom of total loss,
this devastation complete once more,
all of the leftover raw loneliness
gnawing through delicate nerves and desperate heartstrings,
leaving me in tatters all over again,
brand-new heartbreak resonating deep
in the familiar empty chambers
where I am always alone,
cherished and discarded,
worshipped and abandoned,
seduced and rejected,
exiled in my native foreign land,
lost among strangers.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston




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