I left my bedlamp on last night by accident because
I fell asleep writing to you.
When I woke up this morning,
I was alone, with the light on, and a blank page in front of me.
I looked and looked and looked
Past the pages we'd scribbled on
Our hopeless little lies and
Bed-ridden nothings that never got any better
That never did any favors, and never sought
Solutions for problems and shortcomings on days like the
Ones I'd missed where you were happy and you
Smiled like you meant it with
Grinning teeth across rosy cheeks with scarlet lips.
Every marbled, mangled, marveled page stripped and torn
With its own story to tell of another
Time we had that slipped away, right past us.
I found the last page you left me,
Creased and folded, waiting to be found:
"I'm sorry about this, and about last night
And for every night, actually.
Don't forget that I'll always love you,
And I'm sorry."
May 1, 2011
May 1, 2011 at 1:06 AM UTC
I left my bedlamp on last night by accident because
I fell asleep writing to you.
When I woke up this morning,
I was alone, with the light on, and a blank page in front of me.
I looked and looked and looked
Past the pages we'd scribbled on
Our hopeless little lies and
Bed-ridden nothings that never got any better
That never did any favors, and never sought
Solutions for problems and shortcomings on days like the
Ones I'd missed where you were happy and you
Smiled like you meant it with
Grinning teeth across rosy cheeks with scarlet lips.
Every marbled, mangled, marveled page stripped and torn
With its own story to tell of another
Time we had that slipped away, right past us.
I found the last page you left me,
Creased and folded, waiting to be found:
"I'm sorry about this, and about last night
And for every night, actually.
Don't forget that I'll always love you,
And I'm sorry."
My first venture into free form poetry. Very different from my previous works.
