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Liz Devine Feb 2013
The rain pours and pops ,
outside my window pane
and I can hear thunder rolling in,
behind the hills

The white of my comforter
is stained wet from sweat,
and feet
and summer skin

I try to keep your smell,
pressed into my sheets
and the pillow case,
that once held your head

Bronzed and beautiful,
a body built for two
and to always be
touched,
kissed,
and forgotten

But I won't forget you, love
and for every drop of rain
for every splash and ping
I will fall ever the more in denial
that our love was not,
meant to last.
Liz Devine Feb 2013
I stopped,
stared...
and tried to remember,
what your mother looked like

Or how I,
had remembered her

It was a long time ago, huh?
we were just babies then
playing house until the sun set

Catching fireflies,
without a care in the world

We didn't know what would come,
for us
and we were too innocent,
to realize
that we had it all.
Liz Devine Feb 2013
My skin is dry.
I watch it crack and peel,
flake and fall down,
roll off my body to the floor

My hands are tired
from sleeping with closed fists,
from trying to hold on,
and fighting to let go

My body aches
and my face twitches
while my head pounds
with loud thumping,
in my ears.

*I think something's wrong.
Liz Devine Feb 2013
I guess I've been trying my best,
to avoid this
to keep the beast from waking
and to stop the noise,
before it gets too loud

But it's coming,
just like it always does
and I can't hide from it now.

No, spring
won't come soon enough
to save me from the winter's wind
and its deafening chill.
Liz Devine Feb 2013
Do you remember what you said to me?

When you told me you wouldn't leave?

Well, now you're gone
baby
You're so far gone

But,
I can't love a hallucination,
cannot live in my imagination
I get so high off my frustration
it takes ahold of me

and makes a fool of me
I'll agree, it makes a fool of me
Liz Devine Jan 2013
So here we lay,
in the valley of unrest
Broken, bare, and waiting
in perpetual loneliness

But could it be,
that you're unlike me?
and this soul
is but a distant memory?

That splays open,
my body,
my womb
that darkens my heart,
my cage,
my tomb.
Liz Devine Jan 2013
Today I let you go,
and it didn't hurt
and I didn't cry

Last night I released you,
while I was sleeping
Like a soft,
quiet exhalation
that no one heard
and no one saw

I woke up wondering
if I had left you.
Or if,
I was ever in the back of your mind

Perhaps that nimble little moon,
that brought us together
finally decided,
to rip us apart.
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