Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2012
coffee appendicitis and baby tragedies
a toxic fixation and his nineteen fifties apathy
his clothes hung loosely over you.

you are sleeping on his bedsheets but your own bed
they smell like him but feel like you (**** them)


and you can listen to him smile through the door


but you cannot open it.
Written by
CR
1.3k
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems