Another poem...
Void
I hate that cold space,
that voided place we come to
at the end of our hurt
When the words end
and the silence begins
and the coldness fills
in the distance between
I hate the empty hole
that part of my heart’s whole
that’s been sandpapered away
with indifference’s tools
Taking, talking, lashing back,
then I’m taken aback
by the willfulness of it all
You go, I go, we go
where we should never
and are left hanging by threads of piano wire
garrotted for the music we make together in anger and rage,
red and black and purple and blue
like the marks I give myself when we’re through
But we’re silent in the end
and the void seeps through
I hate myself for feeling pain
and punish myself for feeling nothing
~Sherry Lore, July 02, 2016
