Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2018
You.
You took my eyes.
Attached them to a line
Straight in-front of your face.
So it doesn't matter where I look,
Or what I'm trying to do,
All I can ever see is your ******* face.

You.
You took my gravity.
I dropped from the sky
At the bottom was a mattress
Crafted from the finest memory foam.
Sheets already covered in your hairs,
Pillows already smelling of yourΒ perfume.

You.
You took my heart.
Which may sound quite romantic,
But I'm talking several broken ribs,
I'm talking a gaping hole in my chest
That anyone at all could look into
And see the weirdest depths of my soul.
Pete King
Written by
Pete King  Liverpool
(Liverpool)   
585
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems