Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
I was ready

Swallowing all anxiety like a pill

Armed with nothing but words

Consumed with mere prediction

Intoxicated with imagination

I was ready

Stepping on my demons to reach you

You're in my head, you're always in my head

Yet you're not in my sights, you've never been in my sights

Not since that night, that fateful night

I struggle to accept that my timing is once again errant, as I struggle to write for you better lines

I am armed with words, words for only your ears

But only air and dust greet me in the place that you should be

My words, you will never hear, but it's you that I crave to see

So who's the real loser here?

Clearly it's me
D Loup
Written by
D Loup
410
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems