With the lights dimmed,
a pen in hand
I make an effort to loosen the grip your name has on my mind
With every attempt, my thoughts flicker like the flame of your lighter
-I wonder if you think of me:
This is a flame that needs to be put out.
My fingers tighten around my pen.
in my head your grasp tightens around her waist.
My efforts mean nothing
They seem to regress
Not only is your name etched in the most vulnerable graves of my mind
But they've found a permanent place on these pages too
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 11:59 PM UTC
With the lights dimmed,
a pen in hand
I make an effort to loosen the grip your name has on my mind
With every attempt, my thoughts flicker like the flame of your lighter
-I wonder if you think of me:
This is a flame that needs to be put out.
My fingers tighten around my pen.
in my head your grasp tightens around her waist.
My efforts mean nothing
They seem to regress
Not only is your name etched in the most vulnerable graves of my mind
But they've found a permanent place on these pages too
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