Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Others can be good

Others can be good Let me be this Pathetic scrawls In a notebook Let me play again with my Deamons Let them take Over Let them swirl in the night Like my tongue in this stale beer You haunt me with my own impotence I spend the days trying hard not to regret, trying to forget But I am lost and confused. And it's not you. This is me Without a lover to have and hold This is me in a restless frenzy This is the needle This is the sound of your laughter drilling at my chest. This is the hit in a bathroom stall This is my heart cracked open like a walnut. It is not you This is me reaching out in the dark For the the green of your eyes This is my sickness Love like the hot breath of a beast. Love like a nasty stickiness on my skin Love like dancing goblins around a burning stake Love like a dry heat The sun torching the sun The sun torching Icarus' Wings
Request permission to use this poem
Written by
cristina-dean
Published
May 15, 2017
Lines·Words
34·177
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell cristina-dean how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write