Unfinished

This one ends with a cliff
hanger, hangman, hang on
to your guts; get a grip
don’t slip on your expectations

False floor, word traveling
Cut short, unraveling

Meet me where the ground
bends, make friends with thin air
How dare you rest in peace
Wrapped in sheets of certainty

Dead air, breath holding
Two pair, cards folding

Now they're playing your favorite
hue, out-of-the blues
Thirteen past lives, pending
Seems we've lost the ending

Missing, credits wanted
Wishing, surely haunted

Tale is out of order; the chords all
unresolved and diminished
Your silence is my business
This poem will remain

Line count: 22 lines