The Most by Saige Boundonna

The way you look away.
Your fingers slide past in a whirl of degradation,
Idling not a moment as mine do an era.
Your eyes slide past, no pause for the sacred,
And those tender and abrupt lips part no more.

I have been halted,
A storm raging inside, bringing an air of disrepair and a fierce anger that rages.
I am stuck in a moment. An idea of before.

You have lain siege to my mind, whilst never even seeking out its boundaries.
You have lain waste to my heart with one thousand arrows,
never taking a moment to string the bow

 

 

 

 

Saige Boundonna is a student at The College of New Jersey who has always loved writing and reading literature. She writes about love, life, moving forward, and the redefinition of oneself.

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