blood stain on a carpet

I am a photo
of a blood stained carpet
in sepia

I am a murder
waiting to happen
and a suicide
that never did

I am loneliness
and boredom and angst

I am unrequited

We collided at the crossroads
and became one
with each other's souls

I vomited reason into the air
where it evaporated
into the saltine sky
of days to come

I died and was reborn
in the cradle of my own failings
clutching at the lines
between your words
relishing all the reasons
you were no Shakespearean poet
free of glorious subtext

I stand now in the water of the well
drenched in the stagnation
of my emotions
curiously I watch the waterline recede
without questioning why
when I am my own answer

I am over-analysis
and lack of action
I am broken trust
and emotional rust
I am the self-forsaken

(C) Indie Adams 2014