‘Weekend with You’ – a poem

Weekend with You

It’s back
What that man on the money called
The Black Dog

And if it’s there,
at my feet, growling,
why do I feel so alone?

I close my eyes:
If I can’t see this empty space maybe it will go away?
But it’s back and I’m in it
Every single fucking day

It’s Saturday, 05:30am
Here I am:
Alone with these words
my thoughts

I’m back
Like that man I find so funny said
Looking for love

And will it ever be
within my arms, upon my lips,
the place I call home?

It’s Sunday,
And I’m still here
with my thoughts,
these words
When will they disappear?

It’s back
The vacancy of my heart which fills up my mind
Is there anyone out there who would be so kind?


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