Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I cannot, for the life of me, get over it.

I cannot, no matter how hard I try, forget what happened.

It is killing me.

It is destroying me.


(d.d.b)
Boulders
Believed in me
'Sometimes'

--Fictitiously I fail
And these arms
Now merged always
Into-table-cloth
Bore shifting skies

Between rooftops
Singing damnation
With windy-thistle-

Clouds-
Trebling happy hollows.

'I died here'
Somewhere in the,
Meadow.

Gasping occasionally
To siphon life from
Pictures that seldom move.

— The End —