Trench
I suppose that you loved
the thought that
you had excavated
this trench
deep inside,
causing dispire,
to surge out like a fountain.
Then within a instant
you turned your cheek
and disappeared.
Making me submerge
into thoughts of trepidation,
as if I were a monster.
The only creature
that you had created
with individual parts of you,
had come out to be undesirable.
I presume,
this is why
it came to the point
where you had shot me
right in the chest,
as it flew out,
the trench created,
did not fill up with anything
but enmity.
Guide that inspired this poem: