Mar 2020
My fingers
caress the fuzz
on your lower
back
My hands
grip the fuzz
at the base
of your neck
Our
arguments
in my mind
are growing fuzzy
The day
that you left
out the door
is oh so
fuzzy
My fingers
caress the fuzz
on my unshaven
cheeks
My hands
grip the fuzz
of my long hair
I'm such a freak
How the hell
I got here
I don't know
It's so fuzzy
See your picture
through empty bottles
on the nightstand
it's growing fuzzy
caress the fuzz
on your lower
back
My hands
grip the fuzz
at the base
of your neck
Our
arguments
in my mind
are growing fuzzy
The day
that you left
out the door
is oh so
fuzzy
My fingers
caress the fuzz
on my unshaven
cheeks
My hands
grip the fuzz
of my long hair
I'm such a freak
How the hell
I got here
I don't know
It's so fuzzy
See your picture
through empty bottles
on the nightstand
it's growing fuzzy
If there is one thing I'm good at, it's breakup songs. Robert Frost once called Edwin Arlington Robinson's poetry as being "the essence of unhappiness itself". I really hope that isn't a tag I earn on this site as being the dude that writes really sad break-up poems. But here you go! Hope you like it!
