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Mar 2016
the warm sun hits my face and here i sit thinking:
if I was still to be counting the days since the last time I felt at home
when my lips were on your lips
and our bodies were intertwined-
i'd be wasting my precious time away.
you were never home,
you were more or less a hotel room
i had wrongfully mistaken for home.
you made me feel comfy&coz;;
for the time being and then kicked
me out as if i was nothing and then
quickly replaced me with new tenants.
joke is on you,
i might have thought i needed you
but i made it through the winter
without you& now spring is upon
us and i'm thrilled to further distance
myself from the time I messed up
by calling you "HOME"
thanks for not sticking around.
~CMD
Colleen Mary
Written by
Colleen Mary  Chicago
(Chicago)   
606
   bones
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