Zombie

Sometimes we all can be zombies

This feels like deja vu. Like I've been here time and time again in pain begging for your love although I know you are incapable or unwilling to give it to me. Still, like a brainless zombie I return to you praying and hoping that my luck will change. Praying and hoping that for once you'd look at me and see my love for you and return it. Maybe then I can wake from my stupor and stop suffocating from the lack of your presence. Until then every breath I take will be labored. It's hard to breath when the air is so frigid. Every breath feels like a thousand daggers jammed into my lungs. You watch me suffer and sometimes I think you feel guilty and other times I don't think you feel anything at all. It's like I'm your puppet and you're the puppet master tugging on the strings of my heart disporting yourself, laughing until you get bored and then carelessly putting me aside for your newest toy. Except, this latest toy seems to be much more than a plaything. I think you love him. Who am I kidding, I know you love him. You're marrying him. Matter of fact you said you were engaged to be married in June. You may already be married. Did those words come off as angry? Am I allowed to feel angry? Are zombies allowed to feel anything other than sorry for themselves?

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Being a zombie leave us safe from disappointment. Poem was very good. Your story and word usage made this poem a pleasure to read. Must be a talented writer to use zombie and love in the same poem. A excellent poem.
Coyote