Gordana Sretenović

Reader. Writer. Travel junkie. Amateur wine taster. Coffee enthusiast. Certified Kerouac worshipper. Freelance bad horror film guru. Kral Majales aficionado. Aspiring William Blake expert. Future crazy cat lady.

 

The Wall

I am here, looking at the wall
While behind me, he is with another woman
Covertly touching her hand
     and I pretend I don’t see.


I am here, gazing at the wall
While behind me
He is whispering secrets in her ear,
     and I pretend I don’t hear.


I am here, staring at the wall
While behind me,
He is stealing kisses from her,
     and I pretend I don’t feel.

I am here, glaring at the wall
While behind me his friends feel sorry for what we used to be,
And mine tell me to drink it all away
     and I pretend I don’t care.


Still lingering here
Pretending I don’t see.
The people are gone
     and the wall is staring back at me.

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