Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I lay my woozy wobble head down On the floor And close the blinds over my eyes And open up the windows to my ears To listen to the lullaby that loneliness is playing for me on the radio It sounds like low violin, The sound bumblebees make, Sad and sharp as the nails I dig into my palms While I sway gently, Horizontally, to myself On the living room floor I can hear the piano In the song now, Popping sweet Like a blueberry on the nights tongue. The piano is crying I am crying too. I keep the blinds closed Search blindly For the bottle I left standing Like a bowling ball pin Tangled up in my hair I kiss that bottle and she kisses me back And we laugh while Saltwater and grape blood Dance awkward and slow on my tongue Like they’re at their first middle school dance And their hands are clammy But their hearts are racing The song ends and lonely smiles Just barely, Like a crescent moon, And treads lightly across my hardwood mattress Lonely curls up next to me, and we all fall asleep Like that. Wine bottle on one side, Lonely on the other, Me Right in the middle - At least this time, it tasted like Pinot
0
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
ON A WEDNESDAY
I lay my woozy wobble head down On the floor And close the blinds over my eyes And open up the windows to my ears To listen to the lullaby that loneliness is playing for me on the radio It sounds like low violin, The sound bumblebees make, Sad and sharp as the nails I dig into my palms While I sway gently, Horizontally, to myself On the living room floor I can hear the piano In the song now, Popping sweet Like a blueberry on the nights tongue. The piano is crying I am crying too. I keep the blinds closed Search blindly For the bottle I left standing Like a bowling ball pin Tangled up in my hair I kiss that bottle and she kisses me back And we laugh while Saltwater and grape blood Dance awkward and slow on my tongue Like they’re at their first middle school dance And their hands are clammy But their hearts are racing The song ends and lonely smiles Just barely, Like a crescent moon, And treads lightly across my hardwood mattress Lonely curls up next to me, and we all fall asleep Like that. Wine bottle on one side, Lonely on the other, Me Right in the middle - At least this time, it tasted like Pinot
mallory-michaud
Written by
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 2:51 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem