Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2017
You said you dreamed about her eyes last night,
And what you called The Unreachable Light,
And you wept with a bitterness that cracked your lips with salt.

Your voice breaks with vain repetitions,
as you wring your wrists in mournful frustration;
An impatient aching, the veins in your face a silent screaming proclamation;
I am a man at fault.
This is all my fault.

Your mind, riddled with sharp stalactites of cold indignation,
Condescending every other second with rhythmic dripping condensation,
And the sound it makes keeps you awake with miserable reminders of resounding blame-

Drip-
(Stop.)
Drip-
(I have been dead so long.)

You cut your teeth on infidelity,
and you raged against the Lord,
“There is no sun!
There is no meaning!”
And you put out your eyes so you’d never see that you were wrong.

Oh to hate how great a debtor,
How small is your belief!
You said the end was without absolution,
But I think you know it isn’t true.

Drip-
(Stop.)
BR
Written by
BR  26/F
(26/F)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems