on the cutting room floor

I had to rewrite this piece
several times

it was too long and rambling,
overflowing with rancor and bitterness

it was leaking a sour,
rancid disappointment,
born of the painful
revelations of meeting
the real you

what’s there
when no one else
is watching

so, I had to scrap some of it
for the sake of good editing,
and mental health

it’s better to simply
move on
focus on more pleasant
and important things

this

is all that
remains:

there is
nothing
behind
the curtain

nothing
at all

©2024 Kevin Trent Boswell 

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The music and poetry of Kevin Trent Boswell
remission, poetry by Kevin Trent Boswell

Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares.

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