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jude-kyriePoems
*Scars by Jude Kyrie No one gets through life without scars. I don’t mean being accidentally scarred. Like a burn or cut from glass. The other type Like the quietness that fills you When driving through Fruitland With the window down on a spring day. The blossoms perfume choking your soul. And all you can taste is her lips like the day you made love to her and she tasted of peaches. If that was all it would be bearable. But holding back tears When snowflakes fly for the first time. Or That playlist fires up unannounced. Finding her woolen gloves or Her lipstick tube in the glovebox. And people say to you Hey are you ok? And the words It’s just my scars showing. Form silently on your lips.*
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Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 7:47 AM UTC
Scars
*Scars by Jude Kyrie No one gets through life without scars. I don’t mean being accidentally scarred. Like a burn or cut from glass. The other type Like the quietness that fills you When driving through Fruitland With the window down on a spring day. The blossoms perfume choking your soul. And all you can taste is her lips like the day you made love to her and she tasted of peaches. If that was all it would be bearable. But holding back tears When snowflakes fly for the first time. Or That playlist fires up unannounced. Finding her woolen gloves or Her lipstick tube in the glovebox. And people say to you Hey are you ok? And the words It’s just my scars showing. Form silently on your lips.*
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jude-kyrie
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 7:47 AM UTC
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