Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I'd like to slow dance with you
A tasteful sway, just for two
Don't tell the moon
I'm ready to leave her
Not ready to be left so soon.
She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote
I'm going to
Throw our whole book
Into the river
And drown it with my screams

I am going to
Hope
It floats away
With nothing more than ****** streams

I am going to
Jump into the water myself then,
I am going to plummet and pray
That the waves are struck by lightning,
Setting fire to my body, our book,
Both of our dreams.
I liked the imagery this painted in my head so here you are
Have another drink,
Why don't you?
Take another sip?
The bartender's watching us closely but
If I give him a hearty enough tip
He'll leave us be
And we can slip
Down to the train tracks
Like our slurred words.

We won't make love but we'll
Lay on the mercury speckled rails
Singing our heads off,
Drinking some more ail till
The horn blares and
The insides of our eyes pool with gaudy lights from
Heaven above

And we're rolled to bits,
Leaving nothing behind but a trail
Of blood and
The heavenly light of tails.
I wish I could have made it a little less shallow but it messed with the already poor rhythm
1 am 06 and
My mother's just called the police on my
Daddy for hitting her in the face
'Cause he didn't like the food today.

1t
Doesn't come as too much of a surprise
They've been yelling all-day
They've been yelling every day.

1 am jotting it
All down in a little notebook, without
Lines because 1 want to practice my
Straight hand.

No one else in
My little 1st-grade class has a mother
Calling the police on their daddy
For hitting their mother in the face.

That is why 1 am special.
I just think
You might have not
Gotten
What I meant to say
In the way I said it
Written very late at night
My Dearest Molly Anne,
I hope you are now satisfied
With the sinking bags under my eyes and
The empty gap between my thighs, I hope
You know I can no longer sleep
Without you to rock me through the slow-rolling lake,
And sing your song of a thousand sheep.
You've started throwing
Thick red waves into my sink and
Messed with my ability to think and
Darling, you pull me
Under miles and miles of freezing sea
And you take and you take,
Never satisfied.
Next page