I Watched You Go

I Watched You Go

A Poem by Moebia
"

Confusion. Chaos. Desires that are wrong.

"

I watched you go.


I remember the days when you were stable, and blood didn't come from your mouth on a regular basis, and I even remember when you would take me to the park and it wouldn't have to be me steering you around everywhere in a squeaky wheelchair. And the truth is, desire lurked in my heart, much like the newfound hatred that was collecting in the darkest pits of my mind.

Maybe I hated myself for hating you.

What desire

did I hold?

Because it surely

wasn't any desire

to help

you.


No, I had such strong desires to leave, walking on the sand of a beach in neverland, no more worrying if you're okay. If I didn't care, if I left you to die, there would be no more suffering.

It's not that I wanted

to watch you go.

I simply wanted you

to be gone already.

Because your lingering presence

has already taken a toll on my mind.

And if you were gone,

then so would my worries be.


But of course I stayed, and like the lovely daughter I was, I watched you decay in a lonely hospital bed, mom was dead, and so was aunt Beth. Yes, you were the only one left.

I watched the sunlight

leave your eyes

in a midnight race

to the sky.

But I still can't tell

if you went underground

or if you stayed around

to haunt me.

Because everywhere I look

I keep reliving the moment when

I watched you go.

© 2013 Moebia


Author's Note

Moebia
I don't even know what this is.

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Reviews

Well...for not knowing what this is...sounds pretty good in the 3 paragraphs I just read...the fall of love ones and the only one that's left is your father...and watching him decay into oblivion seems the case of the matter in the lines...

Posted 11 Years Ago


Moebia

11 Years Ago

Thank you!
Glen Yumang Manese

11 Years Ago

You're welcome...

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Added on December 24, 2013
Last Updated on December 24, 2013

Author

Moebia
Moebia

Somebody's Nosy, TX



About
I am no writer of the sort. These are my musings, my arts, my flutters of thought. Call them what you may--but a poet is not anything that I am. I have been immersed in my violin for nearly a deca.. more..

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