Nothing More

Thoughts of you
It’s war,
Bound and tied
Within walls
Apathetic and reaching
Sympathetic, beseeching
A memory
Washed in red
But left
To lie, to die
To cry on a killing room floor
This thought
Is you
And nothing more-

Dreams in black and
Dove gray flicker
Bleeding breast
You weave the rest
And leave the best
On the curb
It’s war,
Inside a mind
Littered with ifs and maybes
That never come
A forever love
Rotting in the bin-
This thought
Was that
And nothing more-

A kiss for the war
The chaos
Left writhing in satin
Inside a gasp, a moan
Left to laugh, alone
The stain crawls
Across the linen
I say it’s for you
But it’s not-
Washed out to sea
Cast out to be
Just another roaming ghost
With no memory
Or thought to live
Of yesterday
Of nothing more-

A quiet mind
No slamming doors
Or honking horns
This war is won or lost
At the cost of us
This thought
Is us
And is nothing more.


Echoes on the Stairs Copyright © 2015 by Felicity Johns. All Rights Reserved.


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