Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I still find myself
feeling your skin
in the spaces between
bed-sheet creases

and if
missing you is like
swerving into
oncoming traffic,
then tonight
I’m sleeping
in the road.
 Oct 2015 Lilly frost
TSK
In truth
I'm happy
But I used to be
Quite broken
Hence the poems
And the heartache
And the sadness
And the hurt
Of course
Now I realize
If I press enter
At the right time
It can be considered
Art.
This is a fun little satire now isn't it.
ArT
Every crack in your shattered soul traced my heart for so long I'm afraid to draw
Your shards make me bleed the most beautiful hues
If only I could use them to paint you
I've been looking for you all around

I can't find you in old photographs
And sometimes I can't reach you by phone
    But when I look in the mirror and see my smile

*I know I've found you
I wish I could give you this beautiful pain
   Its captivating to endure
        To watch it unfold inch by unbeatable inch


            Its long
    

            Makes you hard and callous
And makes you grovel in gravel begging for the end
     And it becomes a road
          A winding, twisting road that wraps around your throat

      A gorgeous asphyxiation blurs the smiles of the passengers in the cars on the asphalt
            
   And you blur into unreality
         The road ends

   The film in your head stops



And your left sitting unblinkingly...
Abstract Agony at its Finest
Next page