Afterimage
As the one they hold on to;
a lesson towards the knowing end,
no better off to be accepted;
darker waters, left to tread.
Who’s this place for, if not me?
They smile as they walk away,
leave behind a fragile trace;
an afterimage left to brain.
But you, you were my favorite;
cradled out in front of my eyes.
At most, I don’t know what I’m speaking for;
to bottle up a previous pain?
Pushed far down, and kept it silent
that you may never see the same
once in your life.
But you, you were my favorite;
the vision taunts, it’s never real,
(Who’s tender touch teases me?)
vanishing, when I look that way.
The corner of my eye, don’t cease to lie
that another looks this way about me.
