Parting Guilt
The laughter runs deep while together
feeling like a raptor lofted by the hands of the wind
but an ending must come to any good thing
As paths diverge, to meet again,
the pure events are replayed
for microscopic scrutiny
each moment once clean
becomes grotesque when magnified
the writhing images burn
deep into my soul feeling as if my stomach
has enveloped my heart
and lungs
and digested them
and is now digesting itself.
did my words sting? did my performance
cause you to view me as less than the moon and stars?
if I had only done that, would this feeling be gone?
as paths diverge, answers will not come
leaving only distorted riddles