Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2015
You forgot how sharp your tongue gets
when it's marinated in
cheap wine,
and how fragile your bones can be,
when exposed to the cold.
/
I clawed my name in your back with my fingernails.
your warm blood trickled down
and stained my carpets.
/
I undressed your body and you,
undressed my soul,
and we moved together as though no one could see us,
not even your god.
/
I found you so broken,
you had forgotten your own name under the
weight of hers.
some people make their living searching for diamonds in
side walk cracks.
gems that are ***** and lost
are not always worthless.
/
your songs at night remind me
how to lose my breath,
I fear sometimes
I will not find it again.
/
Your heart is not a white canvas,
but I will stain it
and call it my own.
/
You felt your words peel up,
and crack like
old wallpaper,
but you let them
escape your mouth anyway
and
sobbed into your hands
wondering what you had done.
/
Broken wings will hinder you from
leaving the ground,
but you won't remember your fracture
until you've jumped off a cliff
//
Portland Grace
Written by
Portland Grace  23/F
(23/F)   
916
     Pearl and John michalski
Please log in to view and add comments on poems