I’m down to the wire with just one life left and every morning it starts anew, asking me if I’m ready. I never had a choice. I’ve been here before. I’m stuck in a maze and every time I think I found my way out, I open the front door into my own living room. Just like I left it. Do you ever get the feeling that someone is watching you? That this is all some sort of game, that nothing really means anything? It’s habit now, keeping me alive, muscle memory and a pocket of coins, I slide my hand along the wall to find my way back. Extinguishing lights till all routes are black. I’m chased by the ghosts of my past, locked in a cell with these demons and masks, pink like the flesh, gold like the flask, I should’ve have asked, a blue in her eyes and red wrists in her lap, I’m so sorry…
I’m trying to keep it together,but I’ve pulled out all your feathers, my flightless angel moonlight sonata forever.
I think you were here, but all I have to show for it is 3 small letters, an alphabet signature just boasting how long you could play me.
“Please make it stop” I begged as you fed me a coin.
A ghost in a machine, a ghost of a ghost, my branches are empty, all the fruit that you’ve took, I’m dying on repeat, just some eyes forced to look.
This poem was written by Matt Leavitt. He holds all copyright to this work, nothing may be borrowed or manipulated without his full consent.
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