Feb 2014
written
on February 13, 2014
My memory of you is like the scent of cigarettes drenched in my clothing and no matter how many times I wash them I can never seem to get rid of you in my mind.
You’re permanently stuck there like a tattoo implanted in my brain and I’d like to say it’s a nice feeling to know you’re always around but it’s not.
I want you gone, I don’t want to think of you because when I do the endless nights seem to get a bit longer and I’m here alone in my room writing a poem you’ll never see, being stuck on the memory of
you like a broken record player while you’re moving on with your life.
on February 13, 2014
My memory of you is like the scent of cigarettes drenched in my clothing and no matter how many times I wash them I can never seem to get rid of you in my mind.
You’re permanently stuck there like a tattoo implanted in my brain and I’d like to say it’s a nice feeling to know you’re always around but it’s not.
I want you gone, I don’t want to think of you because when I do the endless nights seem to get a bit longer and I’m here alone in my room writing a poem you’ll never see, being stuck on the memory of
you like a broken record player while you’re moving on with your life.
