End Of Time

Sky high the room shifts
from right to left
Right to left or left to right
the middle is empty
I can’t recall, I can’t recall
as the door closes
Lock the blot, slip the chain; get the keys
warm blanket jolt
I float between the spaces
the in-between words
and silence
Somethings feel flat
others sharp and jagged – the edges frayed
Fingers to lips hush
there isn’t space
only solitary confinement
Love is a weapon
when held like a gun – head and heart
Expectations a trigger,
it only takes one shot,
sharp shooter bullseye

“I will spoil you until the end of time…” echo bounce

©2021 TrilbyYates