Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2018
I have tried over and over to mend the
broken pieces of a shattered love, rough
scarred hands cracking in the center of
chaos, twisting and turning, stretched
and stabbed, a banging beginning hovering
over nothing, as my eyes twitched back
and forth, trying to understand why the
waves of your love wouldn't settle down.
The whipping wind was beating my soul
into submission, drumming its slashed
rhythms upon my frame, dizzy vowels
smeared and struggling in black cold
rivers, while I stared at the ripped
portrait painting of us hanging on the
stained wall, smoky hues running off
course, crashing and undone,
unrecognizable negatives shifting
beneath wronged worlds.  I could see
your rusted brown eyes in my mind,
how every single shape sifted inside
blackened light, blurred, flooding gray,
a dying moon lingering in the sky.
I thought I could paint over your scratchy
surface and turn you into an astonishing
masterpiece.  But the more I gazed at
the scarlet blazed brushstrokes,
how their shadowed existence diminished
in the dark, how hard its surface stung
my flesh, I knew that everything between
us had vanished over the horizon.
Travis Green
Written by
Travis Green  30/M/Middlesex, NC
(30/M/Middlesex, NC)   
277
   Melanie and Logan Robertson
Please log in to view and add comments on poems