I stare at the blank page
And wonder where to begin
Since I have run out of words of dismay
My heart gives me ink no more
I’d die to hear your voice again
And I wait for hours on end
But you kill me when you do call
You talk as if you dialed a stranger
I’m left more bereft with every conversation
You trying to phase me out
Me crawling to get back in
I go seeking bigger troubles
Then the one that already besieges me
The “I miss you” means nothing to you
For it seems now that I was the only one there
You left long before
Throwing me a casual adieu
My heart gives me ink no more...beautiful expression. Your poem conveys fantastically the sense of betrayal and loss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
your poems remind me of my earlier writs, those that i'm tempted to post on this site, but stop myself because i don't think i'm as brave as you to bare the most private and personal!