Mournings AfterI could tell you that I didn't have the intention when I stepped into your house But you wouldn't believe me Just as you wouldn't believe the explanations I gave you My dead-seriousness as I told you that I'm "better" now That no, you aren't the most important thing anymore Only sometimes... but I don't mention that It would be misleading Sometimes doesn't even feel the same as sometimes used to feel I lie behind you, and feel that familiar press of your hips Maybe I should've listened when you told me it was a bad idea But just then, all I knew is that we both needed somethingMournings After
Footsteps“I love them until boredom sets in,”Footsteps
you told me over lunch on that cold afternoon. The snow had fallen, and despite the temperature you were overjoyed with the footsteps that followed you,
momentary but digging in just far enough to leave a mark. “Of course, you’re the only one I can be with forever. You don’t love me any less, no matter what I do”
and I listened and wondered if you could still see my scars.
AshesSoft lips pressing around the filter of a cigarette Your words may come out wrong Your hands may shake slightly around your coffee mug You may feel physically uncomfortable But this is a familiar action Something you’re sure ofAshes
Slow inhale - draw it out Let the nicotine wash it all away Clear your head – push back the emotional tide Exhale Tap off the ash
It keeps you occupied, this ritual Keeps your hands busy Always in motion Gives you something to do Nervous habit – can’t sit still Stillness makes you look bored and unimpressed &nb
The OfferingOpen wounds slowly healing Newly displaced compassion shifts Amongst the bones I sense the feeling And to prove it I must fashion giftsThe Offering
Trinkets and charms that I create Manifestations of dedication Offered to you upon a plate Comprised of my sympathy and adoration
But you claw at my offering with selfish hands Scarring the platform upon which they rest Then fading away despite my plans Insulting what's been so shyly confessed
Though rejection is better than remaining alone At least I can't say I didn't try I fear nothing more than the unk
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: fragilemuse.org : art prints: i
I love your poetry no matter how true in saddness it is..or in other cases : what a hopeless romantic could only want, dream and need. Never stop writing..( which im sure you wont). Later.
-Jenny
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If you wish to drown, do not torture yourself with shallow water.
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