He came to my house
Wearing his dark jacket and
Cold fingers
With no prior notice.
The doorbell echoed at
Nine oh six
And my mom said she'd get it.
I was watching Netflix
And shoveling semi-melty
Ice cream into my mouth.
He said hi to my mom
And he rushed up the stairs
Into my laundry-flooded bedroom
He wrapped his arms around me
So tight that I wasn't keen to let go.
He smelled like bitter outside
And broken trees
And choking regret.
I smelled like
Fake roses
And ***** pajamas
That were freshly cried into.
My shirt sleeves were wet.
When he kissed me,
I tasted like
The aftermath of
Black cherries
And sad music.
He tasted like love.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
He came to my house
Wearing his dark jacket and
Cold fingers
With no prior notice.
The doorbell echoed at
Nine oh six
And my mom said she'd get it.
I was watching Netflix
And shoveling semi-melty
Ice cream into my mouth.
He said hi to my mom
And he rushed up the stairs
Into my laundry-flooded bedroom
He wrapped his arms around me
So tight that I wasn't keen to let go.
He smelled like bitter outside
And broken trees
And choking regret.
I smelled like
Fake roses
And ***** pajamas
That were freshly cried into.
My shirt sleeves were wet.
When he kissed me,
I tasted like
The aftermath of
Black cherries
And sad music.
He tasted like love.
Needless to say, we're on HIATUS until further notice.
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