Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2013
I used to listen to the rain hitting the roof and imagine every rain drop being my every I love you, hitting the top of your roof, rolling down the sides of your house,
down the rain gutters, and I always thought I was being washed away.
Now it's winter and you can barely hear anything. The snow seems to quiet the world and I wish my bitter thoughts could cause a blizzard in my mind to silence my demons.

You scraped off the frost on my windows to see if you could get a glimpse inside, but no one comes by anymore and I've blown out all the candles.
It is as bitter and as cold as the state you left me in, and I wonder why my calender is still filled with memories I'd like to forget.

the walls whisper things to me every cold night I lay awake shaking but they aren't scary anymore in fact it's become the lullaby I  fall asleep to.
Every crack in the floor holds more secrets than any line in my palm has ever been able to hold between every bone chilling memory that causes me to tremble.

I've been shaking since you left, and every blanket of snow that covers the ground makes me beg for your warmth. We
used to be wrapped in eachother, but now I'd like to be wrapped in anything but your smell.
When does the snow stop falling, and when do I?

I've been tripping over my own thoughts in every failed attempt to run from the voices in my head. Every footstep sounds of someone new walking away and every handprint looks like my ghosts have gripped my heart even tighter.

I wish I could make sense of the way your eyes look like the snowflakes on my window, but I guess now-a-days everything screams your name. I wonder, now, if everyone hears these voices in their head, or if they only come out to play in those with malicious thoughts?
I never meant to harm the ones I loved, but I see blood on my hands constantly, and there is no metaphor that could compare to the blood you left behind.

I can't decide who the victim is, you see I've been chained to these regrets but I also hold the key. Every bruise on my heart holds a story in tiny letters spelling out the names of past lovers.
I can't help but remember how my own fists left these scars in my mind you just stamped your memory in approval.

When should we end this?
I never meant to let this drag on so long, but there are chains anchored to my feet and the waters are no longer just knee-deep.
I've been breathless since our eyes met, but, this doesn't feel as calming as your arms once did.
I've seen more hospitality in the homeless, I guess I just wish I saw more love in the dammed and more shelf space for every heart you ever stole.
I guess you threw them in the closet, because I just did not see this coming.
Written by
   Yelena, Nat Lipstadt, Lorraine day and Hallee
Please log in to view and add comments on poems