Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2018
The clock drips by
never asking
why you’re waiting
just mocking
as the hands
draw
idly by
listening
to the shivers
and the sighs
three hours
have passed
each moment
I prayed
they would last
and stretch across eternity
to exist in perpetuity.
The anticipation
drags by
it’s always worse
when you’re high
where each touch
is just all too much
there’s no time
to serenade
when you’re holding a grenade
between shaking thighs.
Amelia Vandergast
Written by
Amelia Vandergast  31/F/Manchester, UK
(31/F/Manchester, UK)   
  2.5k
       Aslam M, Lauren Faith, Pineapples and a mcvicar
Please log in to view and add comments on poems