Splice

She pretends to call me by my name
and I act like I’m listening,
we’re just four eyes staring off into
what we always wanted to see,
that fake fabricated love
that we’ve spent too much time
convincing our friends
that it was
was just the thing we needed.

Advertisements

About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: