Puddle.
One day in the future I hope you open
your eyes after it's rained,
catching your reflection in the
gathering
water,
and find yourself,
free,
alive,
happy.
Youth.
In an instant, her eyes widened,
and I saw an innocence long lost,
as tears began to form.
Blood.
A stained white wood door,
splattered in red,
as the painter again,
got lost in his head.
How to fix past mistakes.
You can't. They're done.
Rope.
Tie us together,
and hang out memories from the trees
we used to climb.
Suspend us forever with a infinite knot
on fire.
How to Live with Yourself.
With a song every morning.
With change driven by guilt.
A love never ending.
A desire to be real.
But all poetry aside,
With closed eyes,
deep breaths,
an empty mind,
and a wish for-
Coffee.
A bitter taste,
awakening touch.
Sweet like cream and sugar,
warm like cinnamon,
I need you every morning,
every day,
all the time.
Milk Chocolate,
stuck to my mouth,
drying it.
Always longing for something warm to
wash it down with,
but you just laugh and call it cute,
as you wipe the stain from my face.
I miss you.
Which you, I don't know.
Whether the one I knew,
or the one you are.
I would die one thousand times just
to see you again.
It's harder still to know that others do,
because you're gone,
only to me.
Aug 21, 2024
Aug 21, 2024 at 2:33 PM UTC
Puddle.
One day in the future I hope you open
your eyes after it's rained,
catching your reflection in the
gathering
water,
and find yourself,
free,
alive,
happy.
Youth.
In an instant, her eyes widened,
and I saw an innocence long lost,
as tears began to form.
Blood.
A stained white wood door,
splattered in red,
as the painter again,
got lost in his head.
How to fix past mistakes.
You can't. They're done.
Rope.
Tie us together,
and hang out memories from the trees
we used to climb.
Suspend us forever with a infinite knot
on fire.
How to Live with Yourself.
With a song every morning.
With change driven by guilt.
A love never ending.
A desire to be real.
But all poetry aside,
With closed eyes,
deep breaths,
an empty mind,
and a wish for-
Coffee.
A bitter taste,
awakening touch.
Sweet like cream and sugar,
warm like cinnamon,
I need you every morning,
every day,
all the time.
Milk Chocolate,
stuck to my mouth,
drying it.
Always longing for something warm to
wash it down with,
but you just laugh and call it cute,
as you wipe the stain from my face.
I miss you.
Which you, I don't know.
Whether the one I knew,
or the one you are.
I would die one thousand times just
to see you again.
It's harder still to know that others do,
because you're gone,
only to me.
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