We Could Only Meet in a Poem


You wouldn’t know me
If you saw me
If you sat with me
Beneath all the pleasantries
The formalities
All of the things
I could
Really say
Locked away
In the basement
At the back
Of my throat.
Only in the night time
Of my loneliness
The locks have
A strange habit
Of undoing themselves
And all of those words
Flitting bats
Eke out
To find their way
Onto the page
Before you.


Image Credit: Blow your mind by Natalia Rak

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *