Face down on the concrete.
I’m here again,
I'm not drunk this time (pats self on the back)
But is this any better?
Not drunk but
Numb again.
I'm out here
Lying with the cigarette butts
Useless.
You always said you felt useless.
You would talk about how you don't belong here and
All you could feel was my hand in yours.
But that doesn't make any sense to me.
If I made you feel again, then where are you?
You sure as hell aren't here.
We were helping each other.
I guess you don't need help anymore.
But I do.
I am so different from the sky,
It shines purple and orange and
Laughs at me as I lie here.
And the morning air tastes like what joy might taste like to most people.
These cars aren’t yours.
I wish they were.
Maybe that would make me smile,
Seeing your car again.
These cars are black and white.
Yours is red and bright and wonderful.
You should come,
And park in this garage.
There is grass out there,
It’s green and shiny
Like your birthstone.
Will you help me up please?
It is scary not feeling the ground,
I don’t like it here.
I wonder if you worry about me.
It's not your fault
It's mine.
I think.
At least that's what I keep telling myself.
That way I'm the one hurting me
So you can still be perfect in my eyes.
I remember your smile,
And my insides warm, and my heart rises from its hole
Like bread rising in an oven.
Your smile reminds me to feel but
The garage floor is still cold and
It creeps onto my skin.
I'm shaking.
When will I see your car again?
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 3:49 AM UTC
Face down on the concrete.
I’m here again,
I'm not drunk this time (pats self on the back)
But is this any better?
Not drunk but
Numb again.
I'm out here
Lying with the cigarette butts
Useless.
You always said you felt useless.
You would talk about how you don't belong here and
All you could feel was my hand in yours.
But that doesn't make any sense to me.
If I made you feel again, then where are you?
You sure as hell aren't here.
We were helping each other.
I guess you don't need help anymore.
But I do.
I am so different from the sky,
It shines purple and orange and
Laughs at me as I lie here.
And the morning air tastes like what joy might taste like to most people.
These cars aren’t yours.
I wish they were.
Maybe that would make me smile,
Seeing your car again.
These cars are black and white.
Yours is red and bright and wonderful.
You should come,
And park in this garage.
There is grass out there,
It’s green and shiny
Like your birthstone.
Will you help me up please?
It is scary not feeling the ground,
I don’t like it here.
I wonder if you worry about me.
It's not your fault
It's mine.
I think.
At least that's what I keep telling myself.
That way I'm the one hurting me
So you can still be perfect in my eyes.
I remember your smile,
And my insides warm, and my heart rises from its hole
Like bread rising in an oven.
Your smile reminds me to feel but
The garage floor is still cold and
It creeps onto my skin.
I'm shaking.
When will I see your car again?
Request permission to use this poem