Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2014
you taught me to peel my own layers
like oranges, abolishing my own comfort until my skin is raw and fresh, until the scent of selfish solitude is in the air you breathe.

once bare, I must forget the ache
of loss and grieve in silence as the desert sun taunts me with
the color I've just shed.

my eyes will always know your face.
it is a face of a man with yellow eyes,
a gun inside his pocket;
ready to pull the trigger once the war inside him commences.

gone are the days of peeling oranges.
it is time for me to peel suns.
Written by
aerielle  MNL
Please log in to view and add comments on poems